


Manifest Destiny

by spirithorse



Category: Code Geass
Genre: 100 Themes Challenge, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Western, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-08 08:17:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 39,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7750249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spirithorse/pseuds/spirithorse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This is the first step to taking control of all of the territories. No longer will these just be territories, but the province that holds Britannia’s western capital. This land will be tamed like the east coast of the continent. Civilization will finally come to this forsaken place and the empire will be reminded of the glory that it contains.”</p><p>The story of early Pendragon and the trials and tribulations of those on the farthest edges of the great Britannian Empire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Murder

**Author's Note:**

> A Western AU for Code Geass because, to my knowledge, no one has done a Western AU for this show. The prompts are taken from [this 100 prompt list](http://a-momentary-equilibrium-issue.tumblr.com/post/36447860096/100-theme-challenge). I tried to be as historically accurate as possible while smashing Geass' alternate history with US history , so this may not be 100% historically accurate, but I was going for more of a fun romp. As a last warning, there are historical slurs used in this fic, but I kind of went for the "less insulting" (if they can be called that) on the scale.

_November 1857 atb  
New London, Britannia_

Kallen stared at the bonfire that roared in front of her, trying to ignore the way her cheek smarted. She curled her hands into fists as she watched the flames leap, the sound of their crackling almost sounding like laughter. She was sure the fire was laughing at her as it ate everything that she and her brother held dear. She opened her mouth to scream curses at it, but she stopped herself when she felt her stepmother squeezed her shoulder in warning. Kallen wanted nothing more to shake her stepmother’s hand off of her shoulder and storm away, but if she did that, she would be caned again.

She flinched at the thought, feeling her stepmother give her shoulder another squeeze. “Stay _still_ , child.”

Kallen turned, about to snap at her stepmother when she caught the little shake of his head that her brother gave her. She glared at Naoto, feeling her eyes start to brim up with tears.

She couldn’t imagine how Naoto could just stand and watch all of their things get burned, all of the things that their mother had made them. This was all they had left of her and it was just being burned in front of them, with no care of what it had meant. More than that, it was _theirs_.

She sniffed, turning to glare back at the fire. There was a large pop, Kallen not sure what had finally given into the flames. All that she knew was that she had to watch and bear the welts on her back from the caning she had received the day before. Kallen wasn’t even sure what she had done to deserve it, she had just been talking to her father. Everything had been alright until her father stopped in the middle of the conversation and ordered her to speak English. When Kallen had asked what was wrong, he had taken the cane to her back.

Kallen sniffed again, reaching up to rub at her eyes. If anyone asked, she could say that the smoke was irritating her eyes, which wouldn’t be a lie, so they couldn’t punish her for that. She was sure that her stepmother would punish her for staying that she was sad her belongings were being burned, even if it was the truth. She wasn’t supposed to be sad about the things that she lost, and Kallen wasn’t sure why. They were just as important as the clothes that her father had bought them, even if they were dull and almost too itchy to wear.

Her stepmother held her in place until the fire had started to die, Kallen watching as the woman waved to the servants to stir the ashes. It was only when the servants were poking at the fire that she let up her hold on Kallen’s shoulder.

She walked in front of them to stand in between them and the fire, Kallen quickly averting her eyes at the glare that the woman gave to her.

Her mother had told her to respect her elders no matter what, but Kallen was finding it hard. The woman didn’t seem to care about them, she seemed perpetually disgusted by them. Kallen had tried to win her affection, especially since her father had begged her to be on her best behavior, but the woman didn’t seem to want her. She had even changed their father into a man that Kallen didn’t recognize.

She hissed out a breath between her teeth, stopping the sound when their stepmother looked their way.

The woman folded her hands in front of her, looking between the two of them. “I hope that this is the last of it. I will find out if you have lied, and you will be punished for it. Remember, lying is a sin.”

Kallen jerked her gaze to the ground, flinching when Naoto spoke up. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Nathanial. Karen?”

She glanced between her father and her brother, waiting for one of them to protest. She had already been given an English name; her mother had liked the sound of it. Kallen remembered her mother combing out her hair and repeating the name to herself before tickling her sides. Kallen would laugh before her mother would scoop her up and kiss her nose. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”

“Karen!”

“Yes…ma’am.”

Her stepmother nodded, leaning down to brush some of Kallen’s bangs out of her face. It took all that she had not to move away from the touch, not wanting it after what her stepmother had done. It wasn’t right for a woman to be so cruel and then be so kind again. The woman tugged her apron back into place, tightening the knot in the back before offering a smile. “There we go, all better. Now you look human.”

Kallen dropped her gaze to the ground, nudging at the dirt with the toe of her shoe. She couldn’t think of anything that say that wouldn’t get her in trouble, and she didn’t want to deal with the punishment that would follow. If anything, she was tired from watching her things burn.

If her stepmother was disappointed by the lack of a response, she didn’t show it. She just finished sprucing up Kallen’s dress before standing up and walking back to the house. Kallen kept her gaze on the pile of ashes, tensing when she heard her stepmother speak from a few steps behind her.

“Remember that your tutors will be coming in an hour. We’ll see what we can salvage. I’m sure they’ll be wonderful despite their…disadvantage.”

Kallen spun around at that, feeling a bit of glee at the brief look of fear on her stepmother’s face. She was prevented from charging over to her stepmother by a steady hand on her shoulder.

She craned her neck up, looking up at her father. He kept his hand on her shoulder, pulling her back a few steps. Kallen glanced back at her stepmother, watching as the woman bustled back into the house, servants rushing after her like vultures circling a corpse. A light squeeze reminded Kallen that her father was still standing by and watching. She swallowed and turned around to look at her father.

He looked completely different from what he was used to. When she had seen him before, he had dressed like the rest of them, nothing like the dandy he looked like now. She missed the old version of him, the one that wouldn’t hesitate to roll around in the dirt to play with them. Now, he did nothing but sit in his office or leave the house to go to his clubs. The old him wouldn’t have burned their belongings.

Her father sighed and patted her shoulder. “We’re doing this for your own good, Kallen.”

There was a small victory in that her father remembered her name, but it wasn’t much of one. He just patted her shoulder before following their stepmother into the house.

Kallen crossed her arms over her chest, turning so she could see the ashes. “This was wrong.”

“Don’t let them hear you say that.” Naoto walked forward to kick at the ashes, Kallen not sure if he was trying to uncover some of the things that were burned or bury them further. She didn’t believe that their stepmother would allow any of their things to survive. Naoto stopped to stare at something in the ashes before shaking his head.

Kallen shifted in place before gathering up her skirts in rough handfuls. She was sure that she was jacking them up too high in her attempt to walk, but she didn’t care. She stormed over to her brother, She leaned over, stopping with the welts on her back burned. Kallen hissed and straightened up, giving up her attempt to see if something had survived. Kallen clenched her hands into fists. “Why can’t we just run?”

“Where?”

“I don’t know. Just away. Back to mother.”

Naoto laughed and shook his head. “We can’t do that and you know it.”

“Then back home.”

“Home is all the way in Area 1. We’d be Numbers.”

“It’s better than this.”

“Maybe. We’ll see. Don’t be late though, Charity won’t like it.”

Kallen shrugged. She didn’t care what their stepmother liked, it was never anything that they wanted to do. Worse yet, it always seemed to be focused on changing them. Kallen didn’t think she needed to be changed, there was nothing wrong with the way she had lived. Just because she didn’t know how to play the piano didn’t make her any lesser than their stepmother. Before, she could have made that point to her father, but he wouldn’t listen now.

She kicked at the ashes again, watching them flutter up into the air. It didn’t make her feel better, and there was nothing else to vent her frustrations on. Kallen gave the ashes one more good glare before turning around and storming back to the house. She didn’t know what she was going to do, but she wouldn’t go meet her stepmother’s tutor. If she was going to do anything, she was going to figure out how to get out of the house before her father and stepmother managed to mold her into one of those other heiresses that she had seen on her way up north. If that happened, then she would be as destroyed as all of their belongings.


	2. Floated

_June 1860 atb  
Western Britannia_

Kallen closed her eyes as the wind tugged at her hair. She tipped her head back, taking a deep breath.

She couldn’t smell any smoke or the sharp stench of rot and unwashed bodies hidden underneath perfume. There was just the clean smell of fresh air, the grass and the faint scent of sweat from her mare. Kallen took another deep breath before opening her eyes, staring out at the endless plains that surrounded her. Sure the plain was broken up with the track of one of the emperor’s many railroads, but that didn’t matter, not when the grass seemed to go on until it hit the horizon. She could gallop forever without hitting a building or a street.

Her stepmother would hate it out here.

Kallen bit her lip to keep from laughing, jerking her head back to where the rest of the wagon trail was crawling along. It was moving slowly, but she didn’t care. Every moment she spent away from her parents and New London was the best in her life. Even if it meant that she didn’t get all the luxuries of being a lord’s daughter and knowing for sure that she would always have a full stomach, she wanted to be out on the trail. At least here she didn’t have to deal with constraining dresses and shoes that threatened to pinch her smallest toe off. She wouldn’t be hit by governesses when she fumbled for the right English word or listen to another lecture about how the Britannians were civilizing and saving the Indians from their heathen ways. She wouldn’t be stared at in the streets while the other girls talked about her behind their fans. Better yet, she wouldn’t have to hold herself back from them.

She didn’t care that her complexion was too dark or that she broke out in freckles in the summertime. She didn’t care that her English didn’t sound right according to everyone she talked to, or that she was the daughter of a great man. Her home wasn’t stuck among the buildings and dirty streets of New London, it was outside of the city.

Her mother was a Cherokee and, technically, she had left her family’s lands far behind. The Britannians had swept through there, chased out the people and built their cities, leaving no place for her people there. She and Naoto could either continue to push until they reached Area 1, the place that Britannian had set out for the tribes they hadn’t outright killed and live there the rest of their lives, stuck being Numbers. Or they could range for as long as they wanted.

There was still plenty of empty space left to move through and the two of them could disappear if they needed to. They had managed well enough for six months so far, something that thrilled Kallen every time she thought of it. Their father was sure to have hired the best to find them again, even if their stepmother had protested, but those men couldn’t find them.

She dragged a hand through her hair, still unused to the short length. That had been the first thing they had done when they had camped for the first night. She had left her dresses behind for Naoto’s outgrown shirts and trousers and chopped her hair short. The Pinkertons would be looking for a boy and a girl, not two brothers. Besides, the Pinkertons had better things to worry about if the rumors she had heard were right. Apparently there was going to be a war.

That was an even better reason to get away from the east coast. The Britannians could tear each other apart, it didn’t matter to her. The closest thing she had to her old life was further out west. Kallen wasn’t sure that she would be welcome, but at least it would be better than slinking back to some city and pretending to be a Britannian again. Besides, between her and Naoto, she was sure that the two of them could figure it out.

A whistle from the wagons caught her attention. She turned her head, reining her mare in. The horse snorted but turned eagerly, probably ready to go back to the rest of the horses. Kallen had to tighten her hands on the reins to make sure that the horse didn’t bolt away before she saw what her brother wanted.

Naoto waved at her before making a sweeping motion to the right. Kallen glanced at the horizon, this time noting the position of the sun before nodding. They would need to be making camp soon, so she would have to range ahead a bit to find a good spot.

She nodded at her brother, letting herself have a moment to stare at the wagon train.

Most of them were Britannians, moving as far away from the east coast as they could. She didn’t quite know how she felt, leading more Britannians away into lands that should have been kept safe, but it got them money. Naoto didn’t seem to have the same struggle, he just led them along until the next fort and then turned back.

Kallen had asked him about it once, but she had only gotten a shrug as an answer. Apparently he was just waited for the right moment and the right direction, whenever that happened.

Kallen rolled her eyes and kicked the mare forward. The horse snorted, not happy about being asked to go away from the others. She kicked him again, gritting her teeth against the horse’s bouncy trot. It took a bit more convincing to get the mare to even out his pace, Kallen rocking with the easier gait.

Ahead of her, the grassy plains spooled out unendingly, Kallen smiling as she stared at them. She didn’t want to be stuck leading Britannians out into them, yelling at them for making stupid mistakes and standing by as they attempted to force the plains into the civilized life they had left behind. She wanted something better, something as far from the rest of Britannia as she could get. Maybe that’s what her brother meant by the right moment and the right direction. Until then, any direction but New London was good enough for her.


	3. Masochist

_August 1, 1861 atb  
Arizona Territory, Britannia_

Suzaku jerked awake with a gasp. He tried to sit up, wanting to see where he had ended up. He didn’t get too far before the pain in his side made him hiss. He eased himself back down onto his elbows, twisting slightly to see what had happened.

His shirt had been taken, Suzaku frowning at that. It was his only shirt, the only one that hadn’t fallen apart between his life in the streets of California and the march into Arizona territory, or the part of it that belonged to Britannia. Left in the place of his shirt was a series of bandages, Suzaku surprised by how clean they were. The only stain he could see was a faint red one that spread out of his line of sight.

Suzaku sighed and slumped back onto the bed he was on, resisting the urge to probe the wound. Someone had taken the time to fix it up, and Suzaku didn’t want to undo the hard work that they had done. He stroked his fingers over where the bandages were wrapped around his stomach, still trying to wrap his head around what had happened.

He remembered standing with the horses, right where he had been assigned when the battle had started. He hadn’t been close enough to see what was happening, no one had trusted him enough for that. Suzaku had stayed there until he had seen the troops rushing back his way. A few of the men had thrown own their rifles as they had run. Suzaku didn’t remember snatching one of them up, he just remembered the sight of the empire’s forces streaming towards them.

Suzaku knew he had fired the gun, the smell of gunpowder stuck with him. He didn’t know if he had managed to load the gun again. He remembered fumbling with it, and then the sharp bark of gunfire and a sharp pain in his side.

His hand drifted down to his side, Suzaku hissing when he touched the wound.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Suzaku jerked his hand away at the sound of the voice. He turned, spotting a man standing on the other side of the room. The man nodded at him, but his eyes never moved away from the bandage. “Cecile and I spent hours trying to stitch you up. It would be a waste for you to bleed out.”

Suzaku curled his fingers into a fist, placing it on his stomach. The motion seemed to please the man, because he nodded and nudged a stool closer to the bed.

The man set down heavily in it, giving the room a quick glance over before picking up something that was lying on the floor. Suzaku shifted on the bed to get a better look at it. He frowned when he saw the mass of metal joints, the man twisting them over in his hands and poking at the welds. The hunk of metal seemed to occupy the man for a time, Suzaku almost sure that he had been completely forgotten about until the man spoke up again.

“Should I take it as a bad sign that you aren’t asking where you are?”

Suzaku frowned at the question, looking around the place he had woken up. He had expected to be one of the tents that had been pitched for the injured soldiers. He hadn’t recognized the man, but he didn’t know most of the group he was marching with. They were all volunteers who believed in breaking away from the rest of the Empire; they all wanted to continue George Washington’s bid for freedom. Although just what kind of freedom Suzaku wasn’t sure. He had heard all of the great speeches, only to be harried back to where he lived.

He rose shakily to his elbows, tipping his head back to stare up at the ceiling. He hadn’t seen a ceiling for a long while, the most he had gotten was the bottom of the wagon that he had crawled under for the night. This was something more substantial, something more opulent.

Suzaku looked back down at the man in time to catch the grin that skittered across his face. The man nodded and gestured around at the space they were in. “Welcome to the Camelot Railroad center of operations. You’ve been here for two days, in and out of consciousness. This is the first day you’ve been awake for more than a few minutes. Welcome back to the world of the living.”

Suzaku nodded, not sure what else to do. He eased himself back down, staring at the roof of the railroad car. He frowned up at it, curling his fingers against the sheet he was lying on. “Where am I?”

“On the railroad.” The man glanced over at the desk, Suzaku at too bad of an angle to see what the man was looking at. The man played with the metal before shrugging. “We’re somewhere in the Arizona territory, if that makes you feel better. We’ve moved on since the battle, following the line on. We’re due to connect somewhere.” The man waved the hand not holding the chunk of metal. “Charlie does love his railroads. This is the third one I’ve connected up for him.”

Suzaku barely listened to the explanation the man gave, his mind stuck on the idea that he didn’t know where he was.

He had marched out with the others because he had wanted to fight for freedom. It wouldn’t be his, but he hoped that he could get the group of men who hung around the wagons to like him well enough that they might start thinking about the others like him. If he proved that he was trustworthy, then maybe they would believe that the other Japanese, Chinese, Mexicans and Negros were worthy of the same freedom that the rest of them

That plan didn’t matter anymore, because the unit he had marched out with was somewhere out in the territory. Suzaku didn’t even know if he would be able to march considering his wound. He would have to stay with the railroad until it healed, and then maybe he would be able to make his way back to California. Although what he would do back in California Suzaku didn’t know. He’d brought everything that he owned when he had marched out. There hadn’t been much left when his mother had passed and there had been even less when his father had died.

Suzaku looked back over at the man, watching as he played with the hunk of metal. The man seemed to really have forgotten about him this time. Suzaku was almost glad, it gave him time to think about what he would do, but he kept circling back to the same idea. There was nothing left for him in California, and Suzaku didn’t know what he was going to do once he could sit upright.

He started when the metal clattered to the floor. Suzaku curled protectively over his side, looking over at the man.

The man just shrugged and stood up. “Cecile will be by with food. Try not to tear out those stitches.”

The man walked towards the door, pausing just before opening it. Suzaku heard the sound of fingers drumming against wood before they stopped. Suzaku tried to turn his head back to see the man, but he couldn’t. It didn’t seem to matter, because the man spoke up anyway.

“What were you doing out there with the soldiers, other than getting yourself shot at?”

“Fighting.”

“Ah. For what?”

Suzaku couldn’t answer that, not when he didn’t know what he had been planning to do in the first place. It had all been vague ideas and dreams of glory. He turned his gaze back up to the ceiling, his mind drifting as he tried to sort out his thoughts.

He didn’t have time to think it over for too long, the man shoving the door open with a bang. Suzaku turned his head to look at the man, catching the tail end of the man’s shrug.

“Well, you’ll have plenty of time to puzzle that out and this. Charlie’s war has taken away all of our guards except for the ones too old an injured to be wanted. And they’re more trouble than they’re worth. I need someone to guard my trains, and Cecile seems to like you. Call if you need anything.”

The man was gone before Suzaku could give an answer. He just heard the faint sound of people talking before the door slammed shut. Suzaku strained to hear any bits of conversation that he could, but it was hard through the railroad car that he was in. Suzaku rolled onto his good side, using the little bit of leverage that he had to peek out of the window. It didn’t get him much of a better view, but it was something better than the bottom of a wagon or the ceiling of the railroad car.

Suzaku reached up, grabbing onto the bottom of the window and hauling himself upright. He ignored the flash of pain, bracing himself as best as he could. The view wouldn’t help him answer his question, but he needed something else to distract himself with. Suzaku rested his chin on his hand, shifting until the sting in his side was bearable again. He glanced down just to make sure that the stitches hadn’t broken before resettling himself. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but it was enough that Suzaku could let his mind drift as he considered what the man had offered him.


	4. Snow

_September 1862 atb  
Arizona Territory, Britannia_

C.C. shuffled forward with the line, clutching the handle of her bag. No one really bothered to look at her long, most of them were too busy looking at the maps of the town or scurrying off to find their plot before someone decided to jump it. C.C. doubted that there wouldn’t be much jumping, the line at the survey office wasn’t too long. Not even rumors that the town was on Prince Clovis’ list of prospective future capitals could bring people out into the middle of a desert. C.C. was sure that half of the people were there for the patches of land that could grow something, and the fact that it was far beyond Britannia’s reach.

Better yet, Britannia didn’t care about what was happening out in the west, not with Area 2 threatening to secede and the ongoing war with the Northern provinces. Anyone who wanted to get out of the way of the government or the tangled politics of the east was running as far away as possible. C.C. wouldn’t be surprised if some of the men she saw were looking to set up empires for themselves, just in case the monarchy fell. She could see the livery of at least three noble families hanging around the maps, probably hashing out deals between themselves. The nobles would never know, they were all busy watching to see if the Northern provinces would win or if it would be better to stick with the emperor.

The man in front of her moved out of the line, C.C. stepping up into his place. The clerk in charge of the registration didn’t look up at her, scribbling at the ledger in front of him before leaning over to mark the claimed area off on the map. Only then did he drag his gaze up. The clerk raised an eyebrow, looking her up and down before sighing. He flexed is fingers before settling back into his hunched position.

“How can I help you Ms.…?”

“Mrs.” C.C. saw the clerk’s head jerk up, the man scanning the area around her. She knew who he was looking for, but the clerk would never find him. Everyone she had met on the trail west had done the same thing.

C.C. resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She dropped her back down at her feet, kicking it between her and the desk. “Mrs. Cynthia Kingsley.”

It took the man a moment more for him to figure out the story, C.C. watching as the man’s eyes widened.

She hadn’t had to say much more on the trail, the rest of her traveling companions filling in the lie for themselves. It was easier for them to believe that she was a woman who had lost her husband somewhere on the trail west than a young woman traveling on her own. It helped in its own way, because people were more willing to share with her as a widow in mourning, and all she had to do was wear black.

The clerk cleared his throat, sliding the map across the desk. “My condolences, Mrs. Kingsley.”

She nodded, leaning forward to look at the map. It wasn’t the appropriate reaction, but she didn’t care. She had been standing in the line for the better part of the morning, and it was getting hot. She didn’t have the royal family to rely on anymore, so she would have to make do with what she could get.

C.C. hid her grimace as she leaned over to look at the map. The proposed town wasn’t much, just a main street and a street branching off of it. C.C. didn’t think that there would be a third street added for many years, the town was off in the middle of nowhere. Still, she couldn’t discount a miracle happening. They tended to happen too often around her.

She pointed at a square plot just off of Main Street, looking up in time to see the clerk flinch. C.C. just gave him a long look, the man just squirming more. She wouldn’t put it past the clerk to have picked out something for himself, but she couldn’t see the man trying to withhold land from anyone, he was too nervous. Besides, she was not about to change her mind, not when the plot she had chosen was already staked as hers. She had made sure to leave the rest of her belongings and the boy she had found on her way over. From the look of the town, the plot of land wouldn’t be disturbed for a long time.

The clerk grumbled to himself for a moment before pushing a piece of paper towards her. “Here you go, ma’am.”

C.C. nodded and gave the paper a quick look over, to check for authenticity. She was not about to get this one chance taken away from her, not when there was nothing else left to her. She smiled and rolled it up, nodding to the clerk. The man looked disappointed, but she didn’t pay him any more mind. She had gotten what she wanted, and signed on it with a name that no one knew.

She turned away from the desk, picking her way through the small crowd of people and back over to where she had left Mao. Just like she expected, Mao hadn’t gone far. The boy was circling the space laid out for them, glaring at anyone who looked his way.

C.C. sighed and grabbed onto his arm as she stepped onto the plot. The boy came eagerly away, babbling to her in his own language before remembering himself. Mao gave her a sheepish look before clearing his throat and speaking in halting English. “We good?”

“We’ve got the land.” C.C. glanced around at the rest of the people lazing around. She didn’t bother to tell Mao that she doubted that anything would come of their venture. They would just get enough to get by, nothing like the riches that were offered to them in California, but C.C. didn’t want to be surrounded by people. There were still nobles that were starting west in the hopes to avoid the conflict and someone might recognize her.

She rolled her shoulders, looking at the marked area of land. It didn’t look like much, C.C. almost tempted to concoct a scheme to sell the land again. She couldn’t imagine anyone wanting a bit of land so far away from anything, it was why she had come out to the desert in the first place. C.C. sighed and gave their plot another look.

It wasn’t bad now that she looked at it again. It was a start, but it would take effort. C.C. huffed, and rested her hands on her hips. Considering her other options, working to set up some kind of business was the best one. It was just a matter of deciding what business would benefit her the most.

She looked around at the people milling around her, the corner of her mouth twitching up into a smile. She could see one other woman, but the rest were men; about half of them looking like they were just there to make a quick buck and the rest looked like serious businessmen. Their reasons for staying didn’t matter, because they would want something while they were in town.

C.C. grinned her herself before turning around to grab Mao’s shoulder. She sent the boy off with a push. “Listen around. Come back with whatever you hear.”

Mao nodded and scampered off into the crowd, C.C. taking the chance to sink down onto the ground and rest her feet. She would let Mao work for the rest of the day while she lounged around. They could worry about starting on their plot the next morning after they got the information that they needed.


	5. Linger

_March, 1863 atb  
Arizona Territory, Britannia_

Suzaku eased Lancelot back into a trot, sitting the smooth gait easily. He spared a quick glance for the tree line, looking for any kind of movement. They hadn’t had any problems with Indians for a while, but Suzaku wasn’t willing to believe that they were out of danger yet. The Indians were probably just busy with other things.

The last he had heard, the armies of the Union and the Empire were still moving around in the area. The Union was trying to cut the railroad lines that he was riding along, although they hadn’t quite managed it yet. Suzaku wasn’t sure if he should thank the Indians or not for distracting both armies in the area. At least he wasn’t waking up to more deaths and more funerals that he stood on the edges of. As it was, the distraction meant that there was nothing but smooth lines of rail laid out over the soil.

Lancelot snorted and shied to one side, Suzaku moving easily with the motion. He trusted the horse to pick his own way over the ground, Lancelot could probably pick out things that Suzaku wouldn’t see. His attention was on the rails, not on the ground. It was his job to ride the rail that had been laid to check if it had been pried up in the night. After that, he rode to the head of the line to check in with the foremen. It was the former that was his favorite part of the day. Talking to the men that worked at the end of the line was never his favorite thing to do.

Suzaku sighed as Lancelot whinnied, looking up to see the horses picketed at the end of the line. He could hear the clear sound of hammers on nails as the men worked to drive the nails into the rails. Ahead of them, he could make out the shapes of more men laying the wooden ties and beyond them were the men clearing the bed. It was all steady, held to the same five mile a day pace that they had managed since the start.

Lloyd seemed to be pleased that their rate of work hadn’t wavered, not even with the war swinging into its third year. They might have lost men when the emperor had demanded more men to fight, but there always the deserters who wanted to run far away from the war torn east and needed to make money. Lloyd had no qualms about hiring them, just as long as his staff continued to work like the well-oiled machines that he admired.

Suzaku set his shoulders back, slowing Lancelot down to a walk as he reached the rail head. It didn’t take long for the stares to start, Suzaku careful not to show that he felt them. He had learned that before he had come to Lloyd, people were just watching for the breaks. If he allowed them to show, then that’s where they would tear at him.

The men already had plenty to grumble about. Their wages weren’t as high as they used to be, not with the emperor’s attention divided between the war and his railroads. The Indians were still hostile, but there was nothing that they could do about that without taking people off the work detail. Not even the ex-soldiers wanted to risk riding out to be killed by angry Indians. There weren’t many things that they could change, but they always found something else to complain about. Like the Chinese, who they believed took away their work. Lloyd didn’t care who he hired, just as long as they worked, and the Chinese would work without a complaint and for longer hours. The Britannians hated that about them, despite the fact that it got them out of the worst jobs.

Suzaku found himself grouped with the Chinese because of his name and the way he looked. He hadn’t tried to differentiate himself, especially since he suspected that they didn’t care. They just saw someone who wasn’t a Britannian working closely with the head of the railway, someone who had been put over them. Even now a few of them stopped to glare at him as he rode by.

He swallowed and focused on the knot of foremen talking together. He slid off Lancelot’s back, leading the horse the last few feet to the men.

One of them foremen glanced at him, sighing before jerking his head. The others quickly clammed up, Suzaku catching one of them mutter “The boss’ pet,” before they all turned to stare at him.

Suzaku gripped the reins tightly, using Lancelot’s solid bulk as reassurance. He had thought that doing the job for two straight years would have made it easier, but it never had. He just grew numb to the disgust and used to watching his back for the next petty attack. “Lloyd wants to know about the progress.”

One of the men spat his tobacco juice at Suzaku’s boot, the gob of saliva falling short. The men didn’t seem to care that it did, they grinned to each other like it had splattered on him. The same man tugged his hat off, wiping his forehead. “We’re on schedule. Depending on how easy it is to break the bed, we might get a few extra miles.”

“Naw, Bill, you gotta make it slower.” A gangly man in the group patted Bill’s shoulder before taking a step closer to Suzaku. “Everything good. Might. Get. Better. We work hard.”

The man motioned out the words as the others laughed, Suzaku carefully keeping his face blank. When he didn’t react, the gangly man shook his head. “See, he doesn’t understand us. Earl Asplund brought taught him what to say. He’s like one of those fancy parrots. Hey, go get one of those Chinamen. Maybe we can get through to him that way.”

Suzaku glanced forward to where the Chinese were working before backing Lancelot up a few steps. He wouldn’t take them away from their work. Working in the rail beds might have been the worst job, but at least they weren’t noticed there. Suzaku had seen what had happened the last time the Britannians had decided to notice one of the Chinese. It had taken weeks for the bruises to properly heal.

He swung himself up onto Lancelot’s back, jerking the reins away as the third foreman tried to grab them. Lancelot snorted and pivoted away from the man, Suzaku hearing them laugh.

“Think he even knows how to ride that thing?”

“Probably not. He probably things they’re just for eating.”

“Damn shame. Looks like a fine horse.”

“It’s the Union’s doing. They want to raise up everyone equal, even the idiots.”

“I hear that he was a Union boy for a bit.”

“Really? What happened boy, they kick you out because you’re too stupid?”

“They get tired of you trying to talk to them?” The man babbled out something that Suzaku assumed was supposed to be Chinese. The foremen laughed. “No wonder they got tired of you.”

Suzaku clucked to Lancelot, slightly relieved when the foremen didn’t trail after him. They had done that a few times, trying to see if he would react. Suzaku had learned to keep quiet while marching with the Union troops from California. The less he talked, the more they had left him alone, which was all that Suzaku had wanted. It seemed to work here too.

He rocked with the Lancelot’s gait, staring out towards the rail head. From the pace he could see, they might be able to push out the extra miles that the foreman had predicted. That would make Lloyd happy, because it meant that his new methods were working. The only thing that would make the earl happier is if the new addition to his train worked. Better yet, the progress would make the emperor happy, which might mean more money sent their way. The men were more likely to be kinder when they had better wages. Then again, kinder was a loose term.

Suzaku pulled Lancelot up, turning the horse in place. He looked over his shoulder out into the open plain. He could see a shimmer of heat off in the distance. From what he could remember from the maps, they were curving towards the desert. There were a few lines that the emperor wanted them to connect up, including where Clovis had started building his capital of the Arizona territory. Where that was exactly seemed to change with every report they got from the prince. It was driving Cecile up the wall, but there wasn’t anything they could do. They would just join the lines and see where Clovis’ grand city finally was.

He gave the distant desert one last glance before turning Lancelot around. The horse eagerly trotted back along the line probably glad that it was headed back home. The home corral was probably better than standing in the sun all day while he was picketed with the other horses at the end of the line. Back at the other cars meant something like room to graze, something that a horse would look forward to. Suzaku shook his head and gave Lancelot his head.

The horse snorted and stretched out into a gallop, Suzaku leaning forward slightly to encourage him faster. The line back to camp was relatively straight, perfect for a long gallop. He had inspected the track on the way out and it was free and clear, which meant that Suzaku could let his horse run.

If he could have gotten away with it, Suzaku would have let Lancelot run past the cars that served as their mobile base. Suzaku would let the horse run until Lancelot was ready to stop, just as long as the horse didn’t head back to California. He wasn’t ready to head back there.

Then again, he didn’t have anything for when he did run. He didn’t have any supplies, and nothing that he owned was his. He was wearing cast off clothes and riding on a borrowed horse. Even if he went anywhere, he would stick out. Worse yet, he was officially a deserter from the Union army. If he was found then he was sure that they would shoot him just to make an example. The only reason he was reasonably safe with Lloyd is because most of the men who came out to work had run from the war or were on the Empire’s side. Lloyd didn’t care about the war, just so long as he got to play with his experiments.

Suzaku sighed and sat up, some of the joy coming out of the gallop. He glanced along at the railroad ties flashing by him, just as steady as the sound of Lancelot’s hooves on the ground.


	6. Beginnings

_April 11, 1865 atb  
_ _Pendragon, Arizona Territory, Britannia_

Lelouch stepped off of the train, rubbing his knuckles into his back. He would have thought that the train ride out would have been more comfortable, especially considering the money that his father had poured into the railroads that now crisscrossed the country and into Areas 2 and 3 and the four years of war that had followed. He hissed as he worked the kink out of his back, not carrying who saw. He could deal without being a prince for a few moments, just until his body lost the rattle from the train.

He opened one eye, watching as the porters quickly unloaded their luggage, pulling out trunks from the baggage car and loading them up into the wagons that waited. To Lelouch’s eyes, there didn’t seem to be enough wagons, certainly not the sturdy ones that he had been used to in New London before it had been burned and the buildings toppled into the Potomac or Richmond. Then again, Richmond was 3,674 kilometers behind him, over mountains, rivers and plains.

Lelouch squashed the quickly rising feeling of homesickness. That would hinder him out here when he was working for the glory of the empire, or that was what his father had said. For the glory and future of the empire, they had to move on from the terrible war that had divided the country. Lelouch doubted that any of the words were his father’s, they were more likely Schneizel’s. The last time he had checked, his father was too busy planning the execution of former Prime Minister Lincoln. Charles couldn’t seem to make up his mind on what the most suitable sentence for treason would be. Lelouch just hoped that his father didn’t start another war.

The war between the Empire and the Union had lasted far longer than anyone had thought possible, and it had scared the nobles and the royal family, and rightly so. All of the nobles who had been given governorship over the northern providences had been brutally murdered so those provinces could succeed and form their union. It had given the nobles a message that they couldn’t afford to ignore. They were all riding the fine line of the people’s approval. If they could take down the nobles, then taking down the emperor would be no problem at all. Schneizel had confessed to him that, if the war had lasted just two more years, there might not have been a Britannian Empire coming out at the end.

Lelouch shivered at the idea, rubbing his arms. He had seen what could happen when the populace got out of control, and he had seen what could happen when someone disapproved of a member of the royal family. There was no way that he could ever forget the sight of his mother splayed out on the steps of the old royal residence, the one that had been built in New London, her blood turning the red carpet black.. All of that made the idea of a secondary capital more important. The empire was expanding north, south and west faster than New London could keep up with. The army had been pulled out of the three areas under Britannian control, which had nearly led to their own wars. Lelouch had done nothing but read over the reports of Indian attacks that were occurring in the western portion of Britannia. According to everything that he had read, Lelouch was surprised that there was even a train station to stand on.

He dropped his arms back to his sides, lifting his chin when he recognized the person that was hurrying over towards him. Lelouch kept himself from waving in return, satisfying himself with a nod as his half-brother strode over to him.

Clovis gave him a bright smile, reaching out for his shoulder before pulling his arm away. Lelouch wasn’t sure if he was disappointed that Clovis hadn’t greeted him like a brother, but the two of them had been kept apart for nearly eight years. His half-brother had accepted the promotion to viceroy of the Arizona territory to keep him away from the noble women whose husbands and fathers had started complaining. Lelouch had his own suspicions about which party was actually the injured one, but he kept it to himself. Besides, Clovis didn’t seem to mind having been sent away from the capital. If anything, he looked better than Lelouch remembered.

“Little brother, you’ve grown!” The initial hesitation didn’t seem to have dampened Clovis’ enthusiasm, his brother was just an energetic as ever. “You might just get as tall as Father at this rate.”

Lelouch shrugged, not caring about the pleasantries. He wanted to get away from the station; he felt too exposed, especially without any guards. Those hadn’t been allowed on the trip, Charles wanting his new western capital to have someone reliable at its head as fast as possible. Richmond would suit his father long enough, but he was worrying about the wilder parts of the empire. According to his father, it would be better to draw from the people already there, to encourage them to become a part of the empire. Once again, it sounded like something Schneizel would say, but Lelouch didn’t care. All he knew was that they didn’t know how the loyalty of the Arizona Territory had gone and there was every chance that he and his sister could be gunned down on the station platform.

He turned to look for Nunnally, sighing when he saw her being wheeled off the train, Alicia Lohmeyer hovering at her shoulder. The older woman had been there for all of their journey out, acting as Nunnally’s companion over the long miles. Lelouch wasn’t sure what he thought of Ms. Lohmeyer, but he was glad that Nunnally had had someone to talk and read to her while Lelouch had been lost under his stack of paper. And at least there would be someone there for her while he was riding all over the planned city.

Clovis moved back into his line of sight, Lelouch watching his half-brother’s eyebrows raise. He gave Lelouch a surprised look before it disappeared. If Clovis had been about to ask a question, he had obviously answered it for himself. Lelouch wouldn’t have brought Nunnally with him if it hadn’t been safe for her. It was something when the unorganized territories were safer than the capital of Britannia.

“And Nunnally too? It must be my lucky day.”

None of Clovis’ surprise entered his voice, which Lelouch appreciated. It was enough to see Nunnally turn her head towards Clovis’ voice with a smile. “Clovis. It’s been years.”

“Too many, but we’ll have plenty of time to catch up. I’m sure the two of you are exhausted. The tour of the new city can wait until tomorrow. That means we have a whole afternoon to talk to each other.” Clovis motioned to some of the people lingering by the wagons, nodding when they sprang into action. “All of the stuffy paperwork can wait too. I have tea sitting by for us. Everything else will be taken care of.”

Lelouch wanted to protest, but his back was still aching and he wanted nothing more than to sit down on something that wasn’t jostling him and eat. Looking back at Nunnally, he was sure that she was ready to drop as well. He took a deep breath and nodded, letting Clovis bound ahead of them. A day wouldn’t kill the empire, especially when the new capital wasn’t completed yet. It would take another year or two to finish the project and then another year to get the secondary capital set up. If the empire collapsed because of one lost day, then in far worse shape than Lelouch had been led to believe.

He waited for Ms. Lohmeyer to push Nunnally up to him before walking, following Clovis to the end of the platform. From where he was, he could see space for Nunnally and Ms. Lohmeyer in one of the wagons. Lelouch raised an eyebrow at the lack of carriages, but he didn’t want to question Clovis on it.

He couldn’t stop himself from groaning when he saw the two horses being held by a negro, the two that were obviously meant for the two of them. Lelouch hadn’t believed that they would be walking to wherever Clovis lived, but he had hoped that he wouldn’t have to ride to it. He wasn’t sure he would be able to ride for long, not with all of his aches.

Clovis must have noticed his expression, because he laughed. “Don’t worry, Gawain is a gentle horse, good enough for anyone who’s spent most of their time in cities. Childeric is a bit more of a handful, but what is life without a little excitement.”

Lelouch eyed the grey horse that was tossing its head and dancing around at the end of its reins. In comparison, the black horse was waiting patiently. With a calm horse, he might just make it to where Clovis was staying without falling out of the saddle. A prince of the empire lying in the dust wasn’t the best first impression. Compared to Clovis, he would have to be commanding, especially if he wanted anyone in the new city to respect him.

Despite his exhaustion, he waved away the offer to be helped into the saddle. Lelouch swung himself up into it with a wince, glancing over in time to see Clovis hauling on the reins as Childeric snorted and circled. Lelouch thought he saw his brother flash him a smile before he managed to get his horse under control.

Clovis extended his arm, motioning for them to start. “Come on. You’ll at least see a portion of Main Street while we ride back to the residence. Or what will become the residence. And the street’s name will be changing too. Can’t have the new capital with a simple name like Main Street when it will be so important.”

“Really?”

Clovis either didn’t hear the sarcasm in Lelouch’s voice, or he ignored it. Clovis just nodded, gesturing widely at the empty plots and half built buildings. “This is the first step to taking control of all of the territories. No longer will these just be territories, but the province that holds Britannia’s western capital. This land will be tamed like the east coast of the continent. Civilization will finally come to this forsaken place and the empire will be reminded of the glory that it contains.”

Lelouch huffed, turning it into a smile. It was a grand plan for a city on the far side of the empire. Lelouch almost doubted that the capital would last a decade, just long enough to pull the rest of Britannia into some sort of order. An extension of the government would just remind the provinces that had joined in the Union’s fight that they were being watched. The name Area 1 had been stripped from the small province that had been granted to the Indians and given to the twenty-one provinces that had seceded from the empire, the same could be applied to the provinces out to the west. Certainly, becoming Numbers was enough of a threat to get them to behave. And, when they were all properly cowed, the overbearing presence of the capital could move completely back east.

He looked around at the few finished structures, purposefully not asking Clovis what they were going to be. He wanted to see the blueprints for the city before he heard Clovis’ version. His half-brother would spin him a tale of Rome reborn, which might never come to be. It would be more prudent to send his reports back with what was actually happening.

From what he could see, good progress was being made. Crews of men were out working on some of the buildings, and another was working to get the streets paved. Lelouch was willing to bet that Clovis’ city was the only one around for miles that would have paved roads instead of dirt. At least they wouldn’t be slogging through mud when the rains came, if the city ever got rain.

Lelouch glanced up at the sky, squinting in the light of the sun. He wanted to raise a hand to block out the sun, but he didn’t dare let go of the horse’s rains. He shook his head, trying to clear the spots from his vision.

“You’ll get used to the weather soon enough. It’s not too bad out here, especially once I talk to our engineer. He has plans for bringing water into the city and cooling the air. You should see the plans he came up with for the safe removal of the Philosopher’s Element. Once this city is built, I am sure that he will change the face of this empire.”

Lelouch nodded along, not really listening. He would be the judge of the team that Clovis had assembled, and that would come tomorrow. For the moment, he didn’t care.

He watched a group of men hauling the frame of a house into place before he looked back over at Clovis. Despite his exhaustion, he did want to know what had possessed his father to agree to move the capital to the middle of nowhere. Lelouch was sure that there were other villages or cities that would do, but Clovis had convinced Charles to focus on a city still in progress out in the middle of nowhere. He eyed one of the signs, noting the lack of a name on it.

“What are you calling this place?”

“New London was already taken, so I had to come up with something else. I sent father a list months ago, before he even thought about sending you out. He seemed to like Pendragon more than the other suggestions.” Clovis raised one shoulder in a shrug. “I’d hoped he would have chosen something more suitable to the atmosphere of this place, but he is the emperor. So Pendragon it is.”

Lelouch eyed the dusty streets, trying to see what Clovis envisioned. It was hard, especially since he could only see the frames of the buildings. He held back a sigh, keeping a close watch on the city as they rode through. It was nothing like Clovis had described it as. It was just a framework town with a grand name, and he had to turn it into the capital of an empire.


	7. Spirit

_April 12, 1865 atb  
Pendragon, Britannia_

C.C. leaned on the bar, tapping the toe of her foot against the wooden boards. The saloon was mostly deserted, which suited her fine. There was only so much stupidity that she could put up with at a time, and she seemed to always run out towards two in the morning, just when she was shooing the last of the patrons out.

Most of them had learned to mind her by now, either because of her sharp tongue or the shotgun that she kept behind the bar. As long as they listened to her, C.C. didn’t care. It was her bar, her rules, her own little kingdom. If they wanted to complain, they could stagger their way down to the other end of Camlann Street, the one that ran onto the very end of Tintagel, the street that ran parallel to the railroad. Of course, by doing that all of the builders and railroad men would run the risk of stepping into the seedy part of the growing city, the one where the guards never seemed to get around to patrolling. Besides, no one knew what went on in the saloons down past Tintagel, and C.C. kept a clean bar. She had to or else some of the guards would get nosy.

She sighed, glancing down at the man who appeared to be asleep against the bar. She would stop and see if he was really asleep or had drunk himself to death later, she was enjoying her moment to breathe. The saloon had been cleaned up from the night before and Mao was off running an errand, which meant that she didn’t have him dogging at her heels. If he continued to make a nuisance of himself, she would have to consider finding someone else to share the load. It wasn’t like there was a shortage.

There were plenty of good Britannians that were flooding into the city, drawn by Prince Clovis’ promises of a great capital. They pretended to disdain any business on Camlann Street, ignoring the dead line that crossed through the city about halfway down the street, just two buildings down from the saloon. There were plenty of them that wouldn’t mind lowering their inhibitions, just as long as C.C. played her cards right.

Then again, there were plenty of others that would gladly jump at the chance to make money without forcing her to give up her plans for the place. Plenty of Negros had run to the west when the empire had put forth its final stance on slavery, all of them trying to find a territory that was too sparely populated for people to care about them. The Chinese from the railroads were probably just as eager to find themselves somewhere to work where they could be treated fairly and get paid a decent wage.

Finally, there were the Indians to consider. The might have recently been named citizens of Britannia, but no sane man trusted any of them. Still, C.C. had never had any problems with them at any point since she had loaded up her wagon and headed away from civilization.

Future employment possibilities were something to worry about later, probably much later. Lunchtime was fast approaching and there were always some workers that stopped by. Any errands that she wanted to do would have to be done before then.

C.C. sighed and rested her head on the cool wood. What she wanted to do was nap away the afternoon heat. There was no point in trudging through the half completed city, getting herself sweaty just in time to greet the customers that kept her with a roof over her head. C.C. doubted that the men had taken a bath in months, but women were held to a higher standard, even women that were teetering on the edge of fallen like her.

She laughed, lifting her head from the counter. If one more missionary passing through offered to pray for her soul, she was going to punch him in the face. Twice if the man offered to pray for Mao’s heathen soul.

C.C. pushed away from the counter, walking slowly to the far end. She paused to push against the man who was slumped against the bar, staying just only enough to see that he was still breathing before stepping out from behind the bar. She would let him sleep for a little while longer, just until the lunch rush blew in. Besides, she was sure that Mao would have a wonderful time chasing the man from the bar, anything in pursuit of a quiet moment with her. She sighed and tied her bonnet on. She would deal with her employee later, when she didn’t feel so tired.

She brushed her hands over her dress, giving it a quick glance just to make sure that it wasn’t horrible torn or stained. Out of the clothes that she had brought west with her, only a few outfits remained that would be deemed appropriate, and C.C. didn’t have the time or the patience to buy herself more. It was easier to keep up the fiction that she was a mourning widow who had lost her husband on the trail over. It granted her a little respectability, if nothing else.

The boards of the temporary sidewalk creaked under her boots as she stepped out onto the porch of her saloon. C.C. lifted a hand to shield her eyes, watching the few stragglers on the street in front of her. Most were builders putting the finishing touches on the storefronts. Most of the building work had moved two streets over, to an unnamed street that C.C. was sure would be given a grand name in due time. She hadn’t asked about what they would be building there, or if they would just be staking out lots for more houses. She didn’t care beyond knowing what prices they would be selling for. She had her own plot of land a street over from where the builders were and she wanted to be able to sell it for a good price. She didn’t need a house of her own, not while the second floor of the saloon worked just fine for her. Besides, she never knew when she would have to pack up and leave. Prince Clovis was intent on making his new capital civilized, but C.C. doubted that it would be an easy fight.

She turned away from the workers, walking up Camlann Street towards Tintagel. At least the coming of Prince Clovis had whipped the settlement that had been starting to form into shape. She didn’t have to walk two blocks to get to the nearest general store or three blocks for the railway station. Aside from the rise in business, that was the only thing she had to thank the royal prince for, a window in which she could put her feet up and take a few hours of rest.

C.C. ignored the calls that came from the street, most of them weren’t for her. No one paid attention to a woman in widow’s weeds, and certainly not when most of them knew about her sharp tongue.

She stepped into the Cardemonde General Store, just one building away from the corner. C.C. eyed the work that had been done, pausing to peer into one of the backrooms that had been nothing but a mess of boards and sawdust the last time she had been in the store. Overall the place looked good, refined, but certainly not what they had back east. As she wandered down one of the aisles, she absently wondered if Clovis would decide to renovate all the buildings on Camlann. It didn’t matter that they were all new, he would probably want something to match the wonders of New York, New London or Richmond.

“Mrs. Kingsley.” C.C. turned to face the counter at the back of the store, giving the woman at the back a respectful nod.

Mary Cardemonde was one of the few women in Pendragon that she could stand. Mary didn’t attempt to behave like anything more than she was, a woman who had had enough of her husband and packed up on her own. People would talk, but Mary took the same approach that C.C. did, she minded her own business and worked hard, so much so that she had run the previous two general stores out of business. There was talk among the residents of Camlann Street that Mrs. Cardemonde would be buying a few of the proposed warehouses down by the train depot as well as the buildings behind and to the side of her general store. It was a tenacity that C.C. had to admire.

She ambled over to the counter, giving up all pretenses of proper behavior and leaning on it. Mary joined her, her attention frequently straying out the window. C.C. ignored the slips in attention. It was common knowledge that Mary Cardemonde had recently taken up with the Three that owned the smithy. There was nothing formal and certainly no moves to change the name of her growing empire. That was something else that C.C. could admire.

Mary turned her gaze away from the window, really focusing on C.C. “I meant to find you earlier, before your saloon got busy. The train came in last night, but we weren’t allowed to get near it for a good few hours. With the way it’s working out, your order will be ready right when you don’t have hands to spare. I can deliver it right into your kitchen…”

C.C. frowned, but shook her head. “I’m not suffering. I’ll be ready for it tomorrow.”

A short delay wouldn’t hurt her business, they were well supplied for the night. It was better to get the food stored away properly than to have to rush the process. It was also better to keep the customers away. Some of them might have been trustworthy, but C.C. wouldn’t put it past some of the patrons to sneak some food away to supplement the rations they got. C.C. had nothing against them for it, everyone had hard times, but it was _her_ money that was paying for that food, and she didn’t intend to let anyone sneak off with it.

She drummed her fingers against the counter, turning her head to watch the lazy procession of people and horses up and down Camlann Street. “What delayed the unloading?”

“Special guests.” She saw Mary shift out of the corner of her eye, probably turning to look out the window as well. “Prince Lelouch and Princess Nunnally arrived yesterday. People have been saying that it means that the emperor has decided on his western capital. Looks like the royal family will be moving to Pendragon soon.”

C.C. breathed out a curse. She had left the east to get away from the overwhelming influence of the emperor and the nobles that followed wherever he or his family went. It looked like that would be coming to an abrupt end, especially with the attention of the royal family on the city, and just when she had gotten comfortable. She eyed Mary Cardemonde out of the corner of her eye. If she had to sell, selling out to Mary wouldn’t be that bad. For all she knew, Mary would run the saloon just as it was, expanding her own empire.

She was about to broach the subject when Mary straightened up, suddenly fiddling with the creases in her dress and the way her bonnet sat on her head. C.C. frowned, focusing back on the window. She could see a large group of people riding down the street, nobles from the look of their horses. It wasn’t until they came around the corner of Camlann properly that she recognized Prince Clovis. C.C. hummed, reaching up to pull the bonnet more firmly onto her head. “Speak of the devil.”

Mary made a sound of agreement before bustling around the corner and out the door. C.C. followed at a slower pace.

Seeing Prince Clovis wasn’t a rare event, the prince always seemed to be making himself known through one way or another. It was the visitors that were the treat. C.C. couldn’t remember seeing Prince Lelouch or Princess Nunnally before the Civil War. It had been a while since she had seen Marianne’s children.

She made her way over to the railing along the porch, leaning against it as Clovis led his half-brother and sister down Camlann Street, obviously giving a tour from the way he was pointing out the buildings. The prince pulled up in front of the general store, tipping his hat to the two of them. “Good morning ladies.”

Mary was the first to bow, C.C. remembering herself a moment later. When they straightened up, Prince Clovis was sweeping a hand out to them. “It is my pleasure to introduce you to Mrs. Mary Cardemonde, the owner of the general store that is threatening to take over all of Camlann Street. And this is Mrs. Cynthia Kingsley, owner of the Royal Saloon just down the street. Both have been here since before Pendragon was even a thought. Mrs. Cardemonde, Mrs. Kingsley, this is my younger brother Lelouch vi Britannia and his sister, Nunnally.”

C.C. muttered the appropriate words, but she watched the visiting prince and princess carefully.

Nunnally still looked a lot like her father, blonde hair and light eyes. There wasn’t much of her that resembled Marianne, save for the confident way that she sat on her horse, but that might have been because of the straps that C.C. caught a glimpse of as the horse shifted in place. So Nunnally hadn’t survived her bout of polio intact, not that it seemed to matter to the young woman. She turned her attention to Lelouch, catching the tail end of the tip of his hat. The prince, when compared to his sister, looked almost completely like his mother. He had her dark hair and his eyes were darker than most of the royal family’s, but his facial expressions were all Charles. It was a strange disconnect, especially since she had known his parents so well.

While she was looking him over, she was aware that Lelouch was doing the same to her. She doubted that Lelouch would remember her, she had left the royal palace just after Nunnally had been born. Even if he remembered her, Lelouch wouldn’t connect the stranger who had ghosted through the halls of the palace back in New London to the woman leaning on a railing out in Pendragon. Either way, C.C. didn’t care. She was more amused by his interest than annoyed by it.

She tipped her head in recognition, letting Lelouch stare as long as he wanted to. Her attention was on Prince Clovis, the only one out of the group that was smiling openly at them. Nunnally was looking the other way and Lelouch looked vaguely amused. The guards that were with them all had the same bored expression on their faces. The other woman looked completely disapproving of the whole affair, but especially of her and Mary. C.C. narrowed her eyes and glared at the older woman, nearly laughing at the way the woman got flustered and looked away.

C.C. turned her attention back to Prince Clovis, giving him one of her best smiles. “Since you’re speaking so highly of my place, are you going to drop in?”

“I did promise that.” Clovis chuckled to himself. “I’ll stop by on October 19th to celebrate our victory over the colonials. Drinks will be on me.”

He waved at the two of them before nudging his horse forward. The rest of his party started after him, Prince Lelouch lingering behind for a while before trotting to catch up to the others. C.C. raised an eyebrow at the obvious interest, turning to look over at Mary.

She seemed just as shocked as C.C, but she shook it off quickly. Mary wiped her hands on her apron, heading back towards her store. “I’ll get that order in early tomorrow. Your place is about to come very popular.”

C.C. shrugged and started back down the sidewalk. One glowing review from royalty was not a guarantee that business would be booming. The construction crews and railroad workers would eventually stumble into her saloon no matter what Prince Clovis said. The only crowd that it would draw were the nobles that were sure to be coming in now that Emperor Charles had named the city the western capital of Britannia.

If that was the case, she just might have to hire on more help but she would have to keep Mao. C.C. sighed, not bothering to pick up her pack. If she was lucky, the new crowds would keep Mao busy and away from her. If she got really lucky, then she would be getting a visit from Prince Lelouch in the near future. Now, _that_ would something to look forward to.


	8. Deficit

_May 1865 atb  
Pendragon, Britannia_

Lelouch looked down the track, watching the distant figures working on laying the rails down. There was bound to be a team further on, probably back closer to Pendragon, working to connect one of the lines that ran further west. He had read plans to connect the Pendragon line with something from the south, but that was something that he had put off immediately. Too much money was being spent on the rail lines, taking away what little money he had to put to building the new capital.

He doubted that his father would send him more money, especially with the sparse news that got filtered across the plains to Pendragon.

There was no risk of war, not after the empire had slogged through four years of one. Schneizel had managed to spin the grievances of the Northern provinces into something that would appeal to their father, which had appeased them. It had to have considered what Charles was doing now according to the news.

The provinces that had seceded from the empire had already been declared Area 1, freeing up the Indian Territory to become a part of the empire. Lelouch hadn’t been around for the fall out from that decision, and he was glad of that. He doubted that even Schneizel could talk their father out of changing his mind about that. Lelouch was sure that Schneizel was still trying to rectify the situation, which might be made worse by the fact that the emperor had neglected to officially extend citizenship.

Worse still was the news that was just coming out of the east. The president of the seceded provinces, Abraham Lincoln, had been executed as a traitor, which had to have made the provinces furious. But Lelouch hadn’t thought that the emperor would act any differently, the man had been his prime minister before joining with the Northern provinces. Still, Lelouch was sure that the new Area 1 was on the edge of another rebellion after what his father had done. With all of that to deal with and Schneizel’s general disdain for the idea of splitting up the empire, no more money would be sent their way.

The only thing Lelouch could depend on his father for was money to throw into his ever expanding railroad system, which might just lead to another civil war.

Lelouch shook his head, turning attention back to the operations. They were too elaborate for just a connecting line, which meant that Clovis had let their father bully him into something that wasn’t planned, wasting what money they had been given. He sighed and nudged his horse over, giving the workers more room to move in.

The men didn’t look up, most of them looking too exhausted to really see him. It wasn’t surprising that most of the men there weren’t Britannian, the number of men able to work had gone down since the war. Most of the men on the team were Negroes, Orientals and the occasional Indian.

The wind shifted enough that Lelouch could hear what some of the men were singing further down the line. He turned Gawain, trying to get in a position where he could hear the song better. He didn’t get far before Clovis was calling for him, his half-brother waving from where he was standing next to the rough tent and table that had been set up by a section of track. Lelouch sighed and trotted Gawain over, the sight of him heading over seeming to encourage Clovis to wave faster.

A Negro grabbed onto Gawain’s reins as soon as Lelouch came over, holding onto the horse as Lelouch slipped off.  Lelouch gave the man a quick glance before looking over at where Clovis and two others were leaning over the table. He was almost surprised to see that one was a woman, but the novelty was quickly wearing off. The longer he stayed out in the Arizona Territory, the more he got used to seeing women go about their own business regardless of it they had a man with them or not. It was a fresh take from the east, where business was a careful dance around a woman’s husband or male family members.

Lelouch walked over to the end of the table, staring down at the map that was laid out. He could see the faint outline of where Pendragon was planned to expand to. Darker lines marked the railroad lines, Lelouch tracing the main line from Pendragon out to about where he thought that they were. As he suspected, they had ridden out into the middle of nowhere to meet with this team, and Lelouch was sure that it would be a waste of their day. The head of the railroad would use the excuse that he was following the emperor’s orders and Clovis would give way, because he wanted his city to be the next great capital of Britannia.

He twitched his shoulder when Clovis grabbed onto his shoulder, hauling him around. “Lelouch, this is Earl Asplund, the man in charge of father’s little obsession. He’s the one we have to thank for the Pendragon spur being up and running so soon. Can you imagine having to wait for supplies to be hauled in from the other parts of the territory?”

Lelouch nodded and sifted away from Clovis, focusing his attention on the earl. To his surprise, the man barely gave him a long look, most of his attention on a small model that he was fiddling with. Lelouch thought he recognized the classic shape of an engine, but there were strange additions to it. He leaned forward, tempted to ask about what the man was working on before he remembered himself. He was there to prevent disaster, not to encourage more spending.

He leaned over the map on the table, pointing to one half drawn line, Lelouch motioning to the lightly drawn line that was heading off towards another rail line. “Are you working on this as well?”

“Our main focus is the line that goes between the Central and Pendragon, since the capital wasn’t connected to anything initially.” The woman at the other end of the table answered. She reached up to adjust the straw hat on her head as she leaned more closely over the map. “That should be part of the lines that were ordered by royal decree.”

“Why? There’s a connection here.” Lelouch moved his finger west, tapping against a dot. “There’s a city right there. Why connect two lines in a place where no one is going to be. Not unless it has been cleared for animal transport.”

“Nope. It’s just another rail line.” Earl Asplund looked away from his model, staring at Lelouch for a moment. Lelouch shifted under the man’s gaze, surprised when the earl pushed the model away. He grinned and leaned onto the map, ignoring his colleague’s gasp as the map wrinkled. “Do you have another plan?”

“Lelouch…” He ignored Clovis’ whispered warning, watching the earl.

He knew most of his father’s allies, and he knew that almost all of them were back in Richmond. If anyone was a favorite of the emperor, they stayed close to the royal court where they could garner favor and make sure that he didn’t forget about them. The only people that got sent away were people that fell out of favor or were in the process of it. The trouble was deciding if Earl Asplund was one of those who were desperate because they had fallen out of favor, or they were angry because of it.

Then again, Lelouch had never heard of Earl Asplund being a hanger on to the court, which meant that he could have never been in favor. The earl might have been one of the rare people that had gotten the assignment because they were good at their job. Therefore, Earl Asplund might not care if Lelouch told him to disobey.

Lelouch grinned, taking a step back so he could tug the map straight again. He pointed to where Pendragon was being built. “I have a better use for the emperor’s money.”

“Lelouch, you can’t.”

“Father agreed to it, didn’t he?” Lelouch watched Clovis out of the corner of his eye. When his brother just shrugged hopelessly, Lelouch turned to glare at him.  “The way I understand it, we have two choices. We let the railroads go ahead, the railroads that Britannia doesn’t need, and let Pendragon just be some backwater town. Or, we could use the funds that father will spend building useless railroads to build the capital he wanted.”

“He won’t like either of those.”

“He won’t, but he’s going to have to choose.”

Clovis shook his head. “He’s the emperor, he doesn’t have to.”

“He has to. You weren’t there for the war, Clovis, you were out here. “

“There was fighting out here. I led troops.”

Lelouch sighed and rubbed his forehead. “You weren’t there for the political maneuvering. The Senate has almost maneuvered Father into a corner, because they don’t want another war like that. The people might not want to do it, but they could. The Northern provinces already hate him because they’re no longer Britannians, they’re Numbers. For all I know, they’re talking with the Indians. Father might have moved Area 1, but he certainly isn’t allowing them into the empire. It wouldn’t take much to get them or fight, or any of the other Areas. Do you want to go through all of this again?”

Clovis was pale, his fingers playing with the edge of his coat. After a moment, he shook his head.

Lelouch relaxed a bit, looking back at Earl Asplund. The earl looked just as interested as he did before, which was a good sign. The more people willing to go along with the plan, the more likely Clovis wouldn’t back out. Besides, building Pendragon was his dream and Lelouch was sure that Clovis would fight for it.

He turned the map, moving it so Pendragon was more towards the center. “Pendragon is progressing well but behind schedule, we just don’t have the men, or they’re busy running off to somewhere else, chasing after rumors of gold. Finish building the connection to Pendragon, but don’t go further. You can assure your workers that the pay won’t waver.”

Earl Asplund tapped his fingers on the table, his gaze moving back to the engine model on the table. For a moment, Lelouch thought that he had lost the man, but the earl just smiled slowly. “Let me see the plans for this city and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Done.” Lelouch reached out to shake the earl’s hand before Clovis could protest. He would work on convincing his older brother later, maybe when they had Pendragon completed. By then, Clovis would be too dazzled by what he would consider his creation to argue with Lelouch again.

He took a step back from the table. “The plans are back at the headquarters. When you have a free afternoon-”

“Cecile, hold down the fort, I’m taking a trip to Pendragon.”

Lelouch shot a quick glance over at Cecile, surprised by the quick decision. Cecile didn’t look too shocked, like sudden changes in orders were something that she was used to. She just gave a weary nod, beginning to gather up the papers.

Earl Asplund didn’t seem to notice her annoyance, he was too busy grabbing up his model engine and rushing to the edge of the tent. “Suzaku, bring the horses!”

Lelouch shook his head, watching the man rush off. He felt Clovis rest a hand on his shoulder, wanting to laugh at the careful tone of voice that his brother used on him.

“He might seem crazy, but he’s actually very good. He might make Pendragon better.”

Lelouch rolled his eyes and walked away from his brother. He didn’t need convincing about his choice. Anything was better than letting the city languish at its current pace.


	9. Potion

_June 1865 atb  
Pendragon, Britannia_

C.C. looked up as the doors to her saloon swung open. It was a little early for business, even for the drunkards that staggered around the city. She listened as the person walked across the floor, turning around when she guessed that they were close to the bar. She was surprised to see Prince Lelouch standing close to the bar. Out of all the people that she expected to come into her saloon, it hadn’t been the younger prince.

Clovis had made his rounds within the first week he had come into town. His younger brother had taken his time. C.C. hadn’t see him since Clovis had taken him on his tour. There had been rumors about what Lelouch had been doing, from spending all his time down on Dinas Emrys Row, where Camlann fed into the seedier districts of Pendragon, to him staying in the hotel that acted as a royal residence, pleading with his father to be sent back east. C.C. had collected the rumors, but ignored every one. She couldn’t be sure about the prince, not when she had only seen him once.

She leaned her elbows on the counter, absently noting the way that his gaze dropped to her cleavage. That wasn’t too unusual in itself, the more important thing was how he reacted to it. To her amusement, he blushed and quickly looked away. It was something different to be sure, especially since she was used to Clovis’ more appreciative glances.

Lelouch cleared his throat and took a step back, his gaze dropping to the counter. C.C. didn’t bother to hide her amusement. She didn’t move from her comfortable place on the bar, watching the prince carefully. “You’re early if you want a drink.”

“You have hours?” Lelouch looked up at her, holding her gaze and raising an eyebrow.

C.C. shrugged, pushing her hair back over her shoulder. “The town dictates my hours. It keeps you busy, if the rumors are right.”

“What rumors?”

She shrugged again, pushing away from the bar to walk over to the bottle of whiskey on their shelves. She dragged her fingers over them, taking her time in selecting a bottle.

Behind her, she could hear Lelouch shifting in place. C.C. smiled to herself. He might have been raised in the royal household, but he wasn’t patient. She closed her fingers around the neck of a bottle, turning around to place it on the counter. She pulled out two glasses. C.C. nudged one towards Lelouch, almost surprised when the prince nodded at her.

She poured them both a drink, waiting for Lelouch to take a drink first. The prince raised an eyebrow at that before taking a sip.

C.C. laughed, running her finger along the lip of her glass. “You’re trusting. I could have done anything to that drink.”

“You could have, but I doubt it.” Lelouch nodded towards the bottles that were lined up. “You wouldn’t risk forgetting where you put it.”

“Who said I would forget?” That got Lelouch to pause, the prince staring into his glass. C.C. shook her head, throwing back her own drink. She winced a bit at the burn before setting her glass down. “Poisoning my customers is bad for business. With the capital coming here, I want to stick around.”

Lelouch nodded, raising his glass in a small salute to her. He kept sipping at his glass, some of the east still in him. He made a face at the burn but didn’t waver as much as she thought he would. She rested her cheek on her hand, watching as Lelouch took a few more sips before pushing the glass a little bit further away from him.

She let the glass be, picking up the bottle and replacing it. C.C. kept moving behind the bar, keeping an eye on the prince as she put everything to rights. She kept him waiting for a moment before giving him a long look. “So, what brings you to this side of the city?”

“Information and allies.”

“This isn’t New London.”

“Or Richmond, but it doesn’t matter. It will be, and I intend to know who the influential people are.”

C.C. shook her head. “That’s a short list.”

“That’s to my advantage.”

He sounded so much like his father, but the phrase was weird coming out of someone who looked so much like Marianne. C.C. hid her unease, focusing on keeping her hands busy. “And I’m on this list? I should feel honored, but any land owner is influential.”

“Most people will sell as soon as Pendragon is built. The people that stay are the ones I’m interested in.”

“How do you know I’ll stay?”

Lelouch just grinned at her, C.C. rolling her eyes. He was confident, she would give him that. Just how far that would take him was the question. That might be interesting to find out. Marianne had done much of the same, forging ahead through pure confidence until she got what she wanted. That’s how she had gotten Charles’s attention in the first place.

She cocked her hip against the bar. “As soon as the nobles come here, they’ll start complaining about my establishment.”

Lelouch snorted. “They’re going to be spending most of their time here. I doubt that that they would be able to chase you off.”

C.C. rolled her eyes. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere.”

Lelouch looked flustered and slightly annoyed at himself. It was enough to make her want to laugh, but she didn’t. Lelouch could keep his pride for now, she would poke at him later when she knew him better. If he was anything like his mother, it would be some of the most fun she had. Striking out on her own hadn’t been as profitable as she was expecting; most of her time had been spent hot and hungry. Shoving her weight around to get her property had been fun, even if she had to make up a story about being married to a soldier back east. At least no one had questioned her, the story had been a common one.

The prince reached out, quickly downing the rest of his drink. His face contorted at the burn of the whiskey, but he managed not to spit it out.

She reclaimed his glass with a wink, watching him sputter. “Keep trying, boy.”

Lelouch puffed out his chest, C.C. wanting to laugh at the show of bravado. It was one thing when Clovis or any of the royal princes did it. They all had their father’s height and build, which made it look intimidating. Lelouch was too much like Marianne, which just left him looking annoyed.

He gave up a moment later, sighing and reaching into his pocket. C.C. shook her head and reached out to touch his arm. Lelouch looked surprised at the brief moment of contact, so she patted his arm and stepped away from the counter. “On the house, especially if you consider coming back sometime. A pretty face does wonders for the bar.”

Lelouch flushed bright red and stormed towards the door. C.C. waved to him as he left. “Come back soon.”

Her only response was the slamming of her door, C.C. chuckling to herself. Clearly the boy took himself too seriously, which might be good where Clovis was concerned. For his own sake, he might have to grow out of that. No one in Pendragon was inclined to step carefully around anyone’s pride; there wasn’t enough time in the day for it.

She picked up the towel from the bar, wrapping it around her hand as she studied the door. She would do what he had asked her, because it wasn’t too difficult. Rumors and money were the two things that passed frequently across her bar. It wouldn’t be too much of a hassle for her to let slip a few things, especially in exchange for a royal favor or two.


	10. Camping

_June 1865 atb  
Pendragon, Britannia_

Suzaku was always in the same place, something that was a relief after spending his days riding around the city in a panic. At least Clovis was starting to pull his weight instead of letting the major decisions be made by foremen while he redrew the buildings again. Now that he had someone else in the city, Lelouch could ride out to the railroad and start pulling workers or look at accurate maps of the region. He knew for sure that the desert didn’t have a mountain and that it wouldn’t be feasible to build one just for the royal palace, nor were there several rivers to draw from. While Lloyd might be buried in an engine and Cecile up to her neck in the books for the company, Suzaku was at least easy to find.

Gawain snorted and tossed his head as Lelouch urged him down the short slope to the river. The stallion sidled, trying to go down sideways before Lelouch managed to straighten him out. The horse settled into a bouncy walk, Lelouch gritting his teeth as he was jolted around in the saddle. The two of them took the same route nearly every day so he couldn’t understand why Gawain protested every time. The footing was good and it was a gentle slope down to river and then a short wade through the water and up the next bank.

He dug his heels into the horse’s sides, Gawain lurching forward. Lelouch grabbed for a handful of mane, holding on while Gawain lunged through the river before climbing up onto the other bank. Immediately the horse shied, Lelouch sighing and kicking the horse again. He kept his tight hold as Gawain scrambled up the other bank, the horse throwing in a few bucks for good measure.

Lelouch sat out Gawain’s tantrum, sliding off as soon as the horse was done. He led Gawain the rest of the way into camp, keeping a tight hold on the reins.

Clovis had said that the horse was calm, but apparently he had only tested him in the city. As soon as were off the street Gawain seemed to lose his mind. Lelouch was almost tempted to ask Clovis to trade horses, but he wasn’t sure that it would help. As far as he could tell, Clovis rarely ventured outside the city on horseback.

A whinny had him looking up, Lelouch glancing over at the grey horse that was picketed a short way from the tent that was set up. Suzaku’s horse watched them for a moment before it lowered its head and went back to grazing.

Lelouch yanked on the reins to keep Gawain in line, pulling the horse forward a few more steps before he allowed the horse to drop his head and graze. He didn’t dare let go of the reins. Knowing Gawain, something would spook the horse and then he would be gone and Lelouch would have to listen to Clovis complain about how he had lost one of the studs for his planned farm. Then again, it might not be such a horrible loss, there had to be smarter stallions that Clovis could choose.

“Your highness?” Lelouch turned at the sound of Suzaku’s voice, watching as the man walked around his tent. Suzaku paused to bow, quickly standing up against as he shifted the saddle he was carrying. “I didn’t expect you.”

“Clovis is handling things in the city, which gives me the time to work some sense into these blueprints.”

“You’ll be wanting Lloyd then. He’s the one with all the maps.”

Lelouch glanced away to where he could just see the railroad head. It was far enough away that the people working on it were just moving figures. He nodded over towards it. “You riding the line?”

Suzaku hesitated in putting the saddle on his horse, Lelouch watching as the man’s gaze flickered between Lelouch and the tent.

It wasn’t a strange request, Lelouch had ridden the rail line plenty of times before, going out beyond where the ties and rails were laid to figure out where it would hit the Pendragon line. He had a couple of stakes driven into the ground where Clovis had said that it would meet, but he wanted to check the maps and ride the land a few more times before deciding for sure where the line would go. There was still enough time to make it curve if he needed to. There was no point to joining the new line far away from the station or completely beyond the city. The only thing that could be putting Suzaku off was the fact that Lelouch would be riding it with him.

He sighed and tossed Gawain’s reins over the horse’s head. He waited a moment before swinging up onto the horse’s back.

Gawain snorted and sidled, Lelouch having to clamp his legs around the horse to keep him still.

The nervous movement of the horse seemed to snap Suzaku out of whatever he was thinking. The man shook his head and finished lifted the saddle onto the grey’s back. “Yes. But are you going to make it?”

“I have before.”

“You must have gotten lucky.” Suzaku reached over to take his horse off the picket line. “You’re going to need a real horse.”

Lelouch grunted, the sound as much of an answer as a reaction to Gawain getting bored of standing still. He tugged on the reins, turning the horse in a tight circle as he waited for Suzaku to be ready.

He tried to keep his glances discrete, watching as Suzaku checked over his horse before mounting up. Lelouch jerked his gaze away as Suzaku leaned forward, adjusting something in the grey’s mane before he sat up. Suzaku gave the horse a pat, Lelouch pulling Gawain out of his circle at the sound. The stallion still shifted nervously, but at least he stood in the same patch of ground.

Lelouch looked up at Suzaku, nodding at the long look thrown his way. Suzaku didn’t bother to nod back, just nudging his horse into a trot.

Gawain seemed to take that as a challenge, Lelouch scrambling for the reins that the stallion jerked out of his hands. He managed to keep Gawain from galloping past the grey, Lelouch feeling his arms starting to ache. If Gawain was going to be like this the entire time, he might just have to look into getting another horse. He needed to be able to look around and see what he had to work with, not spend all his time trying not to get thrown off.

He managed to pull Gawain back into a trot, having to work to keep the horse from sidling or swinging towards Suzaku and the grey. On his part, Suzaku didn’t seem to notice, save for the way the corner of his mouth curled into something that could have been a smile.

Lelouch huffed and looked away, trying to settle down to Gawain’s bouncy gait. No matter how he tried to adjust the horse’s gait he felt like his insides were being mixed around. He sighed and looked over at Suzaku. “What kind of horse do you have in mind?”

Suzaku laughed at that, throwing his head back with the motion. Lelouch found himself staring at the curve of Suzaku’s throat, following the skin down to his collarbone. He looked away quickly, staring at Gawain’s mane. He didn’t need distractions from his work, he couldn’t afford the time.

He licked his lips and looked over at Suzaku again, glad that the man was just snickering. Suzaku glanced his way and flashed him a smile. “I’ll see what I can do once we get to headquarters. Just promise you’ll leave that one behind when we ride out.”

Lelouch nodded, glad that Gawain took the chance to misbehave so he wouldn’t have to watch was he would say. He reined in the stallion, glancing back up at the railhead. It looked miles away, which just made Lelouch hope that there was a more sensible horse back by the camp. He didn’t think his arms and legs would hold up if he had to wrestle with Gawain the entire time. He wanted to be able to pay attention to what he was doing instead of worrying about falling off every time Gawain saw something that startled him or every time Suzaku distracted him. Lelouch was not especially keen to break his neck over a smile, no matter how nice it was.


	11. Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update this time because I don't know if I'll have the time on Friday.

_August 10, 1866 atb  
Pendragon, Britannia_

Clovis stumbled out of the Royal Saloon, humming along to the song that the pianist was playing. It was one of the army songs from the Civil War, one from the royal troops if he remembered correctly. His memory on the songs were fuzzy, he had spent most of the war out to the west, trying to build Pendragon.

He tripped down the steps, reaching out to catch himself on the hitching post. He shushed the horses, pushing himself away from the hitching post. Clovis stumbled away from the horses, making it partially up the street before he remembered that he had ridden in. He muttered a curse and turned around, scanning the horses for his own.

Clovis scrambled for the reins of his horse, cursing as Childeric tried to pull away from him. He tightened his hold, the fingers of one hand fumbling with the reins where they were tied around the post. With the stallion tugging, it made it hard to get the knot undone. Clovis kept up a steady stream of curses, about to give up and just walk away. He could always come back for the horse in the morning. Camlann Street was not the best of places to be, but no one would touch the horse of Prince Clovis. Everyone in Pendragon loved him.

“Did you hear that?” He patted Childeric’s cheek, ignoring the way that horse tried to tug away. “Everyone loves me.”

Childeric snorted, Clovis waving his hand at him. He stumbled back until his back hit the railing. He grabbed at it to keep his balance, grinning at his horse. Childeric was still dancing around at the end of his reins, almost to the beat of the music. Clovis laughed and leaned back against the railing.

“Knew you were good for something, besides throwing pretty babies. Real pretty, like Mrs. Kingsley.” Clovis chuckled at his own statement, watching the horse carefully. When Childeric didn’t respond, Clovis snorted and flapped his hand at the horse. “What do you know? All the pretty women come to my city. It’s going to be a wonder of art and culture. Far better than that backwater on the Potomac or New York. People will never stalk talking about Pendragon and the man who made this wonder. History will never forget Clovis la Britannia!”

Childeric started away at another one of his grand hand gestures, Clovis shaking his head. The stallion just couldn’t appreciate what he was saying. It was something beyond his small brain. Clovis was thinking ahead for centuries after him, as long as Britannia would stand and longer.

He grinned to himself and pushed himself upright. He grabbed for the reins again, prodding at the knots. They were just a difficult as before. Clovis braced his hands on the hitching post, staring at his horse.

The euphoria was already starting to wear off and Clovis just wanted to go to bed. His only disappointment was that he wouldn’t be going back with a beautiful woman. Other than Mrs. Kingsley, there were no women in the saloon, for that he’d have to travel down to the other end of Camlann Street. But he didn’t want whores, he wanted a lady with class, like the ones that he had been able to find back in the east. The only women that he would consider were Mrs. Cardemonde and Mrs. Kingsley.

The door of the Royal opened up, Clovis turning around with a smile. For a moment, he thought that Mrs. Kingsley had come out to speak to him. If that was the case, then he had a chance to try and convince her to come back to the palace with him. Clovis wasn’t sure how long that Mr. Kingsley had been dead or what the man’s name was. With the way that Mrs. Kingsley had been flirting with him all evening, he didn’t think that it mattered.

He blinked at the person standing in the door, trying to remember who it was. He knew that it was the celestial boy that helped Mrs. Kingsley out. Clovis wracked his brain for the boy’s name, before giving up.

Clovis snapped at the boy, gesturing toward Childeric. “Boy, someone has tied my horse to the hitching post. Untie him.”

The boy puffed his chest up, Clovis about to repeat his order when the boy stepped off of the boards and walked over to the post. Clovis groped behind him for the railing, just to keep himself upright. With the boy present, there was some kind of dignity that he needed to maintain. A prince couldn’t fall on his face, especially one with his reputation. He was the master of ceremonies, and he had never once been drunk, at least that the country knew of. And he certainly had to keep his dignity for the boy.

He watched as the boy worked on the knot, amazed when it came undone almost immediately. His tugging must have done something good.

The boy backed Childeric away from the other horses, leading the stallion to where Clovis was leaning on the porch. The prince nodded his thanks, swiping at the reins until he caught them. Even then it was hard to toss the reins over his horse’s head. Childeric kept moving, Clovis cursing and tugging at the horse until the stallion kept still. He sighed when the horse finally stood still, hauling himself up into the saddle.

It took him a moment to get into place, Clovis wiggling around as he tried to find his stirrups. He was starting to see why the other people used the Three’s saddles. They were bigger and more forgiving when you were tipsy. Clovis looked down at his saddle, rubbing his thumb over a scratch in the leather.

His introspective was interrupted when Childeric snorted and sidled away. Clovis quickly gathered up the reins, trying to hold the stallion in place. When Childeric didn’t settle, Clovis sighed and put the stallion on a circle to calm the horse. He turned his attention back to the boy, nodding when he passed. “Extend my thanks to Mrs. Kingsley for her hospitality. I’ll be stopping by more often.”

Clovis winked at the boy before pulling Childeric out of his circling. He nudged the stallion down the street, whistling the anthem of Britannia.

He didn’t know how far down the street he had gotten when he realized that Mrs. Kingsley’s boy was holding onto the bridle. Clovis peered down at the boy, having to lean down to hear the boy speak. Even then, it took him a moment to figure out what the boy was saying through his thick accent.

“Apologies, your highness. You go the wrong way.”

“Ah.” Clovis kicked Childeric so the horse would turn the direction that the boy was leading him. He was grateful for the boy in the dark streets of Pendragon. That would be another thing to add to the plans, street lamps so everyone could find Mrs. Kingsley’s lovely establishment.

He must have said some of his thoughts out loud, because the boy looked at him again. Clovis shook his head, waving the boy on. He could ramble on out loud, and it didn’t matter. Whatever he was talking about was probably above the boy’s head. The boy didn’t have to worry about too many things. He just had his chores at the Royal Saloon and nothing else. Clovis was the one responsible for providing him with everything else.

By the way the boy reacted, he had spoken out loud again. He shrugged and leaned forward to talk to the boy, almost immediately forgetting what he was about to say. It had something to do with his employer, but the thought fluttered away. Clovis shrugged and leaned forward to press his cheek against Childeric’s mane.

He stayed that way for a moment before pushing himself up and looking around. The streets were still dark, but they were darker than he remembered. Clovis narrowed his eyes, trying to pick out the familiar shapes of buildings. With the amount of time he had been riding, he should have been out of the business district and into the residential side that was still in progress. The place he was riding in didn’t look like it was being built; it looked like the back alley of one of the other streets.

Clovis swayed in the saddle, frowning as he tried to work out where he was. Looking around didn’t give him any more clues because it looked like all of the other back lots, cluttered and not looked after. There was a law to be enacted, if he could remember it come mourning.

He scrambled for the reins, pulling back on them. Childeric snorted and jigged a few paces forward before coming to a stop. Clovis sawed at the reins, trying to get the stallion to back up only to have the boy hold him in place. Clovis reached forward to slap the boy’s hand from Childeric’s bridle. “Unhand me!”

The boy let go of him, stumbling back a few steps. Clovis glared at the boy, jerking on the reins as he tried to get his horse to stand still. “I don’t care if you were trying to lead me through a shortcut, this was not necessary. Consider yourself lucky that your mistress and I are on good terms.”

He glared at the boy, watching as he back up to the wall of the nearest building. Clovis nodded at the move, turning Childeric back towards the entrance to the alleyway. He was almost glad that the boy didn’t try to defend himself, he didn’t want to wade through the boy’s horrible English.

Clovis kicked Childeric into a trot, heading towards the front of the alley, or the direction he hoped that it was in. The journey into the alley was a bit of the blur but it couldn’t be too hard to get out.

Childeric tossed his head, sidling under Clovis. He snarled at his horse, spinning him around in a circle. He didn’t have the patience to deal with his horse, not when his head was starting to pound.

As Childeric turned, the caught a glimpse of the boy walking up to him. Clovis glared at the boy, letting go of the reins with one hand to wave the boy away from him.

The boy didn’t listen, his hand reaching into his pocket. Clovis saw the gleam of moonlight off what the boy carried, ignoring it in favor of trying to kick Childeric on. It only when the boy leveled the object at him that Clovis realized that it was a gun. Clovis swore and leaned forward, reaching back to slap Childeric’s hindquarters.

Clovis didn’t hear the gun go off, nor did he feel the bullet slam into the back of his head. He just keeled forward, sliding off of Childeric’s back and hitting the ground with a thud.


	12. Blood

_August 11, 1866 atb  
Pendragon, Britannia_

Nunnally listened to the careful cadence of Ms. Lohmeyer’s voice as she read to her, nodding along every few sentences to let the woman know that she was still awake and listening. In reality, she was barely paying attention, more of her focus outside on the sounds of people moving through the hall. She perked up when she heard her brother’s voice, but she was sure that Lelouch wouldn’t be stopping in to talk to her. Since the entire job of building Pendragon had fallen to him, she rarely got to spend time with her big brother. Then again, she didn’t expect anything less. It was just like Lelouch to throw himself into a project, especially one that he was already so invested in.

She tilted her head to the side, trying to pick out the other voices that were following her brother. She could hear the bouncy turns of phrases that meant Earl Asplund was with them, but Cecile wasn’t. Lloyd’s assistant was usually the first to rein Lloyd in, but she could just hear Lelouch talking to him. If that was the case, then Cecile was out in the city. Nunnally didn’t know what section of the city they were working on, she had missed Lelouch the few times he had come out from work to have dinner. By then, she was usually cloistered in her rooms taking her bath or writing a letter to Euphemia.

From the number of footsteps, she was sure that there were three more people following Lelouch. The other three weren’t talking, but Nunnally was sure that she knew who they were. Lelouch kept three people around him constantly since Clovis’ body had been found. Nunnally didn’t expect C.C. or Suzaku to talk, but Kallen staying silent probably would only last until Lloyd was done explaining what he would be doing next. Knowing Kallen, she would be able to hear the beginning of the argument. If she had missed it, she could always ask C.C. when the woman woke up in the morning.

The group walked past the open doorway, Nunnally turning her head to nod at them. There was a pause in the conversation as Lelouch smiled at her. Nunnally raised her hand to wave, tensing as Ms. Lohmeyer cleared her throat.

Her chaperone waited until Lelouch’s group had gone by, Nunnally wincing as the woman slammed the book shut. Nunnally turned to face Ms. Lohmeyer. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask what her chaperone’s problem was, but she didn’t have to make the effort, Ms. Lohmeyer speaking before Nunnally could say anything.

The woman huffed, Nunnally hearing the book get set roughly onto the table. “Unbelievable.”

Nunnally didn’t tip her head to show that she was listening, but she didn’t need to. The privations of the budding city was a favorite topic of Ms. Lohmeyer’s. She wished that she was in her wheeled chair so she could get away from the familiar tirade. Instead, she was stuck in a chair. Nunnally sighed and folded her hands in her lap. “Are we done with the chapter?”

“No. Do you have something to attend to?”

“No. I have things to talk to my brother about, but it sounds like he’s busy at the moment.”

As she expected, Ms. Lohmeyer huffed. Nunnally tipped her head to the side as Ms. Lohmeyer settled herself back on her chair. The motion reminded Nunnally of some of the swans back in Richmond, the ones that would settle their feathers back down when they were ruffled. She bit her lip to keep from laughing, knowing that there was another lecture there.

She kept her face neutral, part of her attention going back to the voices she could hear faintly down the hall. Her attention was jerked back toward her companion when Ms. Lohmeyer cleared her throat.

“Have you heard how much longer this will take?”

Nunnally shook her head. “Lelouch says that things are all going according to schedule. He’s promised to take me on a tour of the progress of the royal residence once things are settled.”

“Will you be properly guarded?”

“I’m sure Lelouch will bring the usual contingent. The residence isn’t that far from the city. Lelouch says that the empty space in front of it is just the entrance and some of the guard houses.” Nunnally traced her fingers over her knees, tracing out the patterns she had seen on the blueprints. “Lelouch says he wants the residence to be ready for us to move into, so it’s going to take a while. There’s not going to be anything temporary.”

“There’s that at least.” Ms. Lohmeyer sighed, the sound loud enough to draw Nunnally from the careful tracery that she was making on her dress. She turned to head to follow Ms. Lohmeyer as the woman moved around the room. Her companion made one circle around the sitting room before turning back towards the center. Nunnally only assumed that Ms. Lohmeyer had checked to see that her brother and his entourage was gone, because her voice came from behind Nunnally’s chair.

“And we will be getting replacement guards?”

Nunnally shrugged. “I didn’t ask.”

“I hope we do. It doesn’t feel safe with the small number we have.”

“But we have enough for the patrols. And Lelouch keeps Suzaku, Kallen, Dorothea and Villetta around at all times. With them, we should be fine while the others are on patrols.”

“We won’t be.” Nunnally frowned at the way that Ms. Lohmeyer’s voice shook. She turned, about to ask her companion if she was alright, only to have Ms. Lohmeyer come around the front of her chair. “We’re stuck in a dangerous land with only negroes, redskins and celestials to keep us safe. Your brother is making the best out of a bad situation, but why he can’t put good Britannians around us is beyond me.”

Nunnally curled her fingers into her dress. “My brother trusts them.”

“That’s because they tell him what he wants to hear. He’s busy making sure Prince Clovis’ dream and the emperor’s orders are carried out, but the rest of them are whispering poison into his ear. Mark my words, princess, we will pay the prince for it and I _will not_ suffer the same death as Prince Clovis or be carried off to be a slave to the Indians. It’s not right to raise these people above their station. They’re not ready for it. Besides, lies and trickery are in their blood.”

She didn’t get the chance to say anything, a rustle of fabric meaning that Ms. Lohmeyer was moving. Nunnally twisted in her seat, watching as Ms. Lohmeyer went over to the door.

Nunnally licked her lips, about to call out to Ms. Lohmeyer when the woman stopped and called back to her. “I’m not going to live in fear any longer. There has to be a good Britannian soldier around that will stay close to us. It’ll have to do until I contact your father. He has to know that this is unacceptable for his future capital.”

She didn’t get the chance to argue with Ms. Lohmeyer, her chaperone sweeping out of the room. Nunnally leaned around her chair, listening as Ms. Lohmeyer’s steps disappeared down the hall.

She sat back in her seat, closing her eyes. There was no way that Ms. Lohmeyer would be convinced to give up her quest for a better guard, even if Lelouch spoke to her. The woman was just as stubborn as her brother, which meant that Charles would hear about everything that was going on at Pendragon. Nothing that Ms. Lohmeyer could report would be good. Nunnally rubbed her hands against each other, hoping that Ms. Lohmeyer would be quick, because she didn’t want to remain confined to her chair. As soon as she could, she would have to warn Lelouch in the hopes that he could rectify the situation.

Nunnally hoped that her brother would actually pay attention, he hadn’t had much time for anything the past few days. Knowing her brother, he would just laugh off any threats that Ms. Lohmeyer made, like he had been doing most of the time. But that was before. Nunnally was sure that Ms. Lohmeyer meant it this time and she shuddered to think about what Ms. Lohmeyer would do to get her way.


	13. Dirt

_August 16, 1866 atb  
Arizona Territory, Britannia_

Lelouch had never been happier to see the end of the desert. Riding through it had almost convinced him that those back in the east had been right about the west; it could have been an endless desert as far as he was concerned. He had seen the plains in the west, but they had sped by. Having to ride through the desert had been a different thing altogether, but at least he could see the start of some trees further on. Trees meant shade, which meant getting out of the sun. He was sure that he was nearly burnt to a crisp from riding out in the sun all day.

He rubbed the back of his neck, hissing at the heat he felt there. The next time he stopped for water he would soak his bandana again, just to ease the burning. The rest of his face should be good, the hat that Villetta had pressed onto him their first day out was doing some good, even if Lelouch felt foolish. He was a prince of the empire, not one of those cattle rustlers from Area 3. Then again, foolishness was better than dead from heat exhaustion.

He scanned over the rest of his posse, watching as Kallen and Dorothea switched from taking the lead. Kallen reined in her mare, giving Lelouch a quick nod before settling her mare into place in their group. Lelouch looked over to his left, where Suzaku and Villetta were riding. The two of them didn’t bother to glance his way, too busy scanning the countryside. He was sure that it was flat enough that they would see anything, but he didn’t know the area like they did.

Villetta had been born and raised close by, Suzaku had ridden all over while working for Lloyd and the railroad and Kallen had traveled all over the place with her brother before she had picked Pendragon to settle down. The only one that was just as much at a loss as he was Dorothea, but she seemed to be adjusting better than he was.

Lelouch sighed and tugged his hat further down over his face. At least the sun wasn’t so bright now and they weren’t riding directly into it. Lelouch couldn’t imagine Mao running away on his own, a boy his age running scared through the desert on a stolen horse. Lelouch had expected to find the remains of Mao and the horse out in the desert, but the boy had managed to get through the desert and hold his two day lead. At this rate, they would chase Mao all the way out of the Arizona territory. What they would do then Lelouch didn’t know.

He didn’t feel comfortable leaving the city, especially not so soon after Clovis had died. Until his father appointed someone else, he was acting viceroy in the territory. While he was away from the center of government, everything was left in Nunnally’s hands. Lelouch trusted her to keep everything in control, but he didn’t want to be too far, just in case something went wrong. And, knowing Pendragon, something was going to go wrong and Lelouch didn’t want to leave it all on Nunnally and C.C. There was too much that he could happen, too much that he couldn’t predict.

Lelouch was startled out of his thoughts as Shinkiro jerked his head up. The horse came to a stop, turning his head. Lelouch saw the horse’s nostrils flare. He kicked the horse, getting a grunt in return, but Shinkiro didn’t move.

He sighed and sat back in the saddle, shaking his head at the horse. Suzaku had insisted that he bring the horse instead of Gawain. Apparently, Shinkiro would do better covering the terrain between Pendragon and wherever Mao had run off to. After seeing the land they would have to cover, Lelouch was sure that Suzaku was right. Gawain would have high stepped himself into a hole a few miles out, and Lelouch would have had to turn back to Pendragon. The stallion was better off back in Pendragon, especially since C.C. seemed to have taken a liking to him.

But the heat and the long ride must have scrambled Shinkiro’s mind, because the horse was still just standing. Lelouch felt the horse’s sides expand as he took a deep breath, and then they contracted when Shinkiro whinnied.

Lelouch cursed and tugged on the reins, about to tell his horse to keep quiet when there was an answer. He turned to face the hills, his eyes wide. No horse from the posse had made a sound, and Lelouch couldn’t imagine a wild horse calling out to them. All of the wandering horses that he had caught glimpses of had been shy and more likely to run away than come talk to the horses. Lelouch frowned and stood up in his stirrups, raising a hand to shield his eyes as he scanned the hills.

There was a flash of movement on the hills, Lelouch sucking in a quick breath when he recognized the shape of a horse and rider.

He barely got the time to speak, seeing Shinkiro’s ears flick back out of the corner of his eye before the horse bolted into a gallop. Lelouch yelped and sat down in the saddle, clutching at the horn for a moment before he settled into the motion. Shinkiro was nothing like Gawain, there was nothing flashy about his gaits. The horse was made for covering ground.

Lelouch leaned forward, giving the horse his head. Shinkiro took the slack eagerly, gaining on where Dorothea was urging her gelding into a gallop.

The others were quick to follow, Lelouch glancing under his arm as Kallen and Guren thundered up on his right. Kallen gave him a short salute before Guren overtook them. Shinkiro snorted and tossed his head, but Lelouch didn’t let him race. Mao was a good ways ahead of them and they still needed to run him down. Lelouch didn’t want to risk missing him, not after four days of tracking the man.

Lelouch grabbed a handful of Shinkiro’s whipping mane, focusing on the shape of the galloping horse ahead of them.

Mao still had a good lead on them, but Dorothea and Suzaku were closing in on him, the two of them opening a gap between them and the rest of the posse. Lelouch bit back an order for them to turn back. This wasn’t war, this was a chase. He couldn’t afford to hesitate.

Dorothea and her gelding caught up to Mao, Lelouch standing in his stirrups as the woman threw herself from the saddle and into the boy. The two of them crumpled to the ground, but their horses kept running.

Suzaku breezed past them to catch the two horses, Lelouch flicking his gaze over before sitting up to pull Shinkiro down from his run. The black horse snorted but complied, Lelouch nudging him to circle around where Dorothea and Mao were wrestling on the ground. Shinkiro tossed his head, carefully stepping around the two bodies in the dirt. He sighed when the horse finally stopped, dismounting and holding Shinkiro as Dorothea finally pinned Mao into the dirt.

The boy glanced up at him, Lelouch surprised by the hatred he saw in Mao’s eyes. The boy jabbered at him, bucking as he tried to throw Dorothea off, but the woman only pressed him further down into the dirt. The boy hissed out something that Lelouch assumed was a curse, but he didn’t bother to worry about it.

He dropped Shinkiro’s reins to the ground, eyeing the horse for a moment before kneeling on the ground so he could look the boy in the eye. Mao spat out another curse, Lelouch leaning back to avoid the glob of spit that came with the curse. He sighed and gave Mao a level glare. “You knew this was coming. As viceroy of the Arizona territory, I arrest you for the murder of Prince Clovis and condemn you to hang by the neck until dead when we return you to Pendragon.”

“You can’t do this. I get a trial.”

“It wouldn’t make a difference. You killed Clovis and they want blood.”

Mao turned his head away, Lelouch sighing. He hadn’t expected the boy to be this much trouble. He had thought that they would find Mao exhausted or dead, and it would be easy to haul him back to Pendragon. Then again it wasn’t just a matter of making sure that he got justice for his half-brother, he had to make sure that his own position was secure. If he wasn’t safe then Nunnally wouldn’t be safe, and his sister’s wellbeing was far more important than the life of a certain killer. Besides, hanging Mao right away would be easier on the boy on in the end. If the people of Pendragon had their way, then they would rip Mao to shreds before justice had the chance to be delivered.

Lelouch sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. A whicker made him look up, watching as Suzaku came back with Mao and Dorothea’s horses. Dorothea’s gelding walked calmly as Mao’s stolen horse tried to nip at him. Suzaku kept the two of them far away from his horse, looking relieved when Villetta took the stolen horse.

He pivoted in place, looking over the horses before nodding towards Dorothea’s bay gelding. “Tie him up. Dorothea, you’re going to be riding back on that other horse, put Mao on yours. Kallen, Suzaku, ride on either side. I’m not chasing him all the way out here again.”

There were a few nods from the group, but most of them were focused on dismounting and helping Dorothea with Mao. The boy was struggling against Dorothea, Lelouch stepping back to avoid a flailing arm. Mao cursed at them again, some English mixed in this time. Lelouch shivered when Mao shot him a scathing glance, turning away before he could hear more.

He walked back to Shinkiro, gathering the reins in one hand. Lelouch went to mount his horse again, pausing when he saw Kallen lingering on the edge of the group. He watched her for a moment before he swung up into the saddle. Lelouch was tempted to send someone ahead to tell the citizens of Pendragon that they had succeeded. It might prevent any more tension in the growing town, especially with the large Chinese population brought in by the railroad. Lelouch could just imagine the street wars that would break out the longer that he stayed away. Then again, he wanted all of his guards on hand in case Mao proved to be more trouble than he was worth.

Lelouch gritted his teeth and swung up onto Shinkiro’s back. He didn’t want to risk losing Mao, bringing Clovis’ murderer back to Pendragon would stop more wars in the long run. He would just have to live with his worry until they got closer to Pendragon.

He looked back over in time to see Suzaku swing Mao onto the back of Dorothea’s gelding. Dorothea was already on the stolen horse, holding it steady and it snorted and turned in place. Lelouch motioned for them to go ahead as soon as Dorothea pulled the horse up, waiting for Suzaku and Villetta to take the lead before falling into place behind Dorothea.

Lelouch gave the trees and mountains a long look before turning his gaze back to the trail that they had just rode down. It would be a long time before he saw something like them again. A bit of green was a welcome change from a town of sand and dust.


	14. Thanksgiving

_August 20, 1866 atb  
Pendragon, Britannia_

Nunnally leaned closer to the window, listening to the people walking in the street below their suite. She frowned, listening hard to pick out different voices. It was hard, especially considering how many people were in the area. She vaguely remembered Lelouch telling her that the work had moved away from the hotel, meaning that they would have all of Lloyd’s team and the original team that Clovis had brought in bustling around. Nunnally was sure that the last comment had been directed more towards Dalque, because the slave was the one who took Nunnally out for her daily walks. More often than not, Ms. Lohmeyer asked to be left out of her walks, claiming that the hot sun gave her headaches. Nunnally had her own suspicions, but she never voiced them.

She played with the book in her hands, opening and shutting the front cover. She felt trapped in her room, especially with all the life going on underneath her. That and the fact that Lelouch had been gone for well over a week.

Nunnally gripped her book tighter, leaning out of her chair. Through the opening in the curtains, she could see horses moving about in the street below, but not the horses that Lelouch and the others had ridden out on. She bit her lip, snapping the book shut again.

She knew that she shouldn’t worry, not when Lelouch had brought the best people that Pendragon had to offer with him. But she couldn’t help herself, because her brother was going after Mao. Nunnally didn’t know all the details, because most of them had been kept from her by Lelouch and Ms. Lohmeyer, but she did know that the boy had killed Clovis. If he was already on the run for killing one prince, killing one more wouldn’t cause him any trouble. The west was large, and Mao could run and hide anywhere.

She ran her fingers over the cover of the book before setting down on the table to her left. She reached down to pull on the brake on her chair, carefully turning it towards the door. Nunnally pushed herself towards the center of the room, stopping when the door opened.

“Your highness?” She sighed when she recognized Dalque. “It’s too hot for a walk, your highness. I don’t know how those men are doing it in this heat.”

Nunnally huffed and slumped back in her chair. She thought she heard Dalque laugh, but the sound was covered by Dalque gathering up plates and generally straightening up the room. She turned her head back to the window, focusing on the people that were walking below. She only turned away when she Dalque stopped moving around the room.

“Don’t worry about your brother, my lady. He has people who will look after him.”

“I keep getting told that.”

Dalque paused for a moment, glancing around the room before setting the plates down on Nunnally’s nightstand. She glanced over at the bed, giving Nunnally a relieved smile when she motioned for Dalque to sit down.

The girl sank down with a sigh. “I don’t think that anyone knows this territory better than Kallen and Dorothea. I don’t think anything will get past Suzaku. Villetta is….she’s loyal, that’s the best thing she could be. So, I believe he’ll be well looked after.”

“Thank you.”

Dalque hummed. “It’s sad when you can’t trust what the people around you say.”

“It’s what I grew up with.”

“It’s sad.” That seemed to be the last word on the subject, Dalque getting up and bustling around the room again. Nunnally didn’t know how she kept finding stuff to do, but she didn’t question it. If the girl wanted to arrange the room more, Nunnally wouldn’t argue. Everything she wanted was inevitably handed to her no matter how much she protested.

Nunnally went back to leaning out towards the window, halfway expecting Dalque to move her further away. It would be just like the girl, a subtle reinforcement of what she had told Nunnally, certainly not enough to be considered an order. Nunnally tipped her head towards where she could hear Dalque working close to where the wardrobe was.

She was so focused on where Dalque was in the room that she missed the slight change in the sounds from outside. Nunnally frowned at the change in pitch, shifting on her chair so she could look back outside. She heard Dalque cross the room as well, reaching out her hand for the girl.

Dalque was quick to take her hand, holding it gently as she leaned outside. Nunnally waited for the girl to tell her what was going on, resisting the urge to shift in her seat. She couldn’t see much from where she was in the wheelchair, just the last few meters of the approach to the hotel.

The girl gasped, squeezing Nunnally’s hand. “Your brother is back.”

“Is he alright?”

“Yes.” The answer came after a short pause. Nunnally sucked in a quick breath, Dalque squeezing her hand again. “He looked tired, and he’s not sitting on his horse right. It might be nothing.”

“Or it might be something.”

“It might be. I’m sure I can find something for you.”

“Thank you, Dalque.”

The girl hummed, shifting around so she could sit down beside Nunnally. She didn’t let go of Nunnally’s hand as she leaned out slightly. “Everyone else has come back safe. I don’t see Mao, but they may have dropped him off at the prison. But the crowd is cheering, so they must have been successful.”

Dalque didn’t get the chance to say more, Nunnally starting when she heard the door to her suite open. She turned her head to look towards the door, flinching when she heard the chair that Dalque was sitting it fall to the ground. Nunnally was about to ask the girl if she was alright when Ms. Lohmeyer stepped into the room.

Her companion looked over at the two of them, Nunnally seeing the woman’s eyes narrow as she saw Dalque. “You must be done with your duties. You wouldn’t be sitting here otherwise.”

“Of course not, Ms. Lohmeyer.” Dalque quickly walked out of the room, Nunnally tempted to call her back. Then again, her orders wouldn’t carry the same weight as Ms. Lohmeyer’s.

Ms. Lohmeyer crossed the room, briskly pulling the window shut. “That’s quite enough of that. Too much more and you’ll get freckles, which would be unfortunate.” She sighed, rounding on Nunnally in the next moment. “Your brother is back. We have to get you presentable so you can greet him.”

She didn’t get the chance to argue, Ms. Lohmeyer popping the break and pulling her chair away. Nunnally curled her fingers around the armrests. Lelouch had never cared what she was wearing before, he had always just been happy to see her. That might have changed since Clovis had died. Now that Lelouch was the viceroy of the Arizona territory he might want to present a different image of himself; he wasn’t just in Pendragon to oversee the building. As his sister, she couldn’t embarrass him, not with the tenuous situation that they were in.

Nunnally dropped her hands into her lap so she could resist the urge to stop her chair. Her brother would be back once he was done dispensing with his posse, and he would want to see her. Nothing could change her brother so much that he wouldn’t want to see her when he returned. She would just need to be presentable. She let her head hang a bit, listening as the voices of the people outside faded to the genteel voices of the hotel patrons.


	15. Fall

_August 28, 1866 atb  
_ _Pendragon, Britannia_

Lelouch managed not to look away when the box was kicked out from underneath Mao. He couldn’t keep himself from flinching as the boy hit the end of the rope.

For a moment, he thought that the drop hadn’t broken Mao’s neck, Lelouch watching the boy’s body swing out. He tightened his hold on his horse’s reins, glad that he had chosen to ride out on Gawain instead of Shinkiro. Gawain was used to standing in front of crowds and listening to any noise that they made. The stallion had been one of Clovis’ prized horses, bred carefully from lines brought over from Europe. Shinkiro was just a rangy mustang that Suzaku had found for him.

He leaned forward to pat Gawain’s neck, hearing the horse snort when the people cheered. Lelouch remained impassive, even though he was a bit disgusted by the display. He knew that the people of Pendragon loved Clovis, the workers because he paid them and the nobles because he had given them a new place to entrench themselves. Lelouch had watched a line of new money nobility coming into Pendragon, trying to establish their monopolies in the west.

The cheering increased as the captain of the guards reached out to push the rope, making the body swing in a larger arc. Lelouch rolled his eyes, turning Gawain away from the crowds. His own personal guard, the people that he had assembled while staying in Pendragon, were waiting for him. Lelouch motioned for them to mount up, he had had enough of the spectacle. There was still much to do around the city now that Clovis was avenged.

He pulled Gawain up as one of the guards rushed over, twitching the reins as the man grabbed onto it. The guard didn’t seem to notice, he just saluted Lelouch. “Are you returning to the hotel, your highness?”

“Yes. You can tell your captain that I expect him to take the body down and send it to the undertaker. And to disassemble the scaffold.”

“Your highness?”

“I’m not having it in the center of town. We’ll move it to the police yard, but it has no place here.”

“Yes, your highness. I’ll call the guard to-”

“No. I have my guard.”

“But your highness-”

“Return to your duties.” The man looked surprised, but at least he followed the order. It was better than what some of the others would do. And at least the man didn’t sneer at the people that Lelouch had surrounded himself with.

He sighed and looked back at the five who were waiting on him, noting the looks of rage on Kallen and Villetta’s faces. At least they hadn’t tried to challenge the guards to a fight, again.

Lelouch rubbed at the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache start to build. He would just have to rely on Dorothea to keep the peace, she was the one with a calm head on her shoulders, and the other two women tended to listen to her. Suzaku might try, but he was always saying something that set Kallen off. Lelouch had yet to find a pattern to it, he didn’t have the time to put in a full study about why his chosen guard might hate each other. All that mattered was how well they worked together. Any other little spats could be weathered without much fuss.

It was the fights with the Britannian guards that he was starting to worry about.

He wanted to surround himself with the people in the area, mostly to show the people of the Arizona Territory that he trusted them above all others. He had also chosen his guard because they knew the area. There was no point in calling back to Richmond to get a bunch of youngsters still hopped up on their victory against the Union, especially when they would just trample over the people and die of heatstroke in their wool uniforms. If his father ever wanted the west to be a part of Britannia, he would have to find people who wanted to be there and defend it, not just keep sending the troops out to harass them.

Lelouch glanced over his shoulder as the cheering got louder, narrowing his eyes as he saw Luciano cut down the corpse. It dropped to the ground, the captain of the guards laughing as the crowd rushed forward, probably trying to claim souvenirs from the event. Off to one side, Lelouch could see the guard that had tried to escort him back making a valiant effort at pushing through the crowd, but he couldn’t quite make it through.

He narrowed his eyes, watching Luciano carefully. The soldiers all loved him because he had been a war hero. Lelouch had heard stories about Luciano Bradley leading charges through Union lines and being the only man to come out, covered in blood and laughing. Lelouch had no doubt that the rumors that Luciano had killed more Union soldiers than any other man were true. Charles might like that in one of his guards, but it just made Lelouch want the man out of his territory. The law had a tenuous hold out here, even with one of the royal family looking over the territory. He didn’t think it would take much for Luciano to decide to start slaughtering Indians for the good of the empire.

“C.C.” Lelouch looked over to his left, not surprised that the woman was already there. He glanced over at where the crowd was still looting Mao’s body. “I’ll make sure that the body gets back to you. Dorothea, Suzaku, stop that.”

The two of them nodded and rode into the fray, Lelouch watching to make sure that the guards didn’t turn on them. They shouldn’t, but Lelouch couldn’t be sure. They were his father’s guards, brought in by Clovis to keep the women of Pendragon safe. He wanted to scoff at the idea of Luciano Bradley keeping the women of anywhere safe, but he kept it to himself. The Britannian troops were popular, and there was nothing he could do about that, for now.

 “The sooner the better. I’m tired of them getting in my way.” He took the snort from behind him as an agreement. He didn’t bother to turn around to check who had made the sound, it didn’t matter. He had his allies which could number the entire population of the lower town at the moment. None of the people wanted to have the threat of Luciano lingering over them.

He heard C.C. sigh, surprised by her reaction. When he looked over at her, she shrugged. “You sound like you’re starting your own war here.”

“It’s not going to get that far.”

“So you say.” C.C. pulled her hair over her shoulder. “I didn’t come out here to get trapped in one man’s private war.”

He bristled at the implication. “I’m not my father.”

“I noticed.” C.C. shrugged and kicked her horse forward.

Lelouch watched her ride off, shaking his head. He was used to C.C. being prickly, but that didn’t make it easier to ignore. He didn’t need her reminders of what his father had done, he was well aware of just what Charles had done to get his way. What was doing was for the good of the people of Pendragon.

Having a murderer in Pendragon was something he was _not_ going to let stand.


	16. Swim

_September 1866 atb  
Pendragon, Britannia_

Lelouch wasn’t sure why he headed back to the Royal. In the few weeks he had been in Pendragon he had never gotten into the habit, not even after the few times he had gone to see the proprietress. Clovis had been the one who would make nightly visits to the saloon, Lelouch preferred to spend his evenings working on the plans for Pendragon. Their father had sent him out to check on the capital’s progress, and that’s what he planned to do; not spend his nights flirting with women and drinking. Maybe if Clovis had focused more on his life’s work, then maybe it wouldn’t be behind schedule. And maybe if he hadn’t been so drunk, then Clovis might not have been killed.

He shook his head and stepped through the doors to the saloon. He hadn’t come to the building to stand outside and think about everything that his half-brother should have done. He wasn’t quite clear about why he had come, just that he felt that it was the right thing to do.

Lelouch walked into the saloon, his gaze jumping immediately to the woman behind the bar.

C.C. had her back towards him, but she wasn’t trying to tease him. She wasn’t puttering around behind the bar, there was a purpose to her movements. Lelouch was sure that she hadn’t even heard him come in.

He hesitated in the middle of the room, tempting to just turn around and walk back to the hotel. There were plenty of other things to do, but he had already spent hours staring at his papers and the plans for Pendragon without any progress. Lelouch had taken a walk to look over the city, hoping that actually moving would get him to focus. Clovis’ notes on the progress had been spotty and he hadn’t bothered to leave any information about future plans, it had all be in his head. Walking the planned streets was the only way to make sense of the plans that Clovis had made, but Camlann Street was finished. There was no reason for him to be hovering around the Royal Saloon, save for the fact that C.C. was there.

Lelouch sucked in a quick breath as she turned to look at him. She didn’t bother to give him a cheeky grin, she just sighed and leaned on the bar. “This is becoming a habit with you.” When he didn’t respond, she looked up, the smile on her face seeming a bit fragile. “Coming in here when you have a problem. I should start charging.”

“Why? Your solution is to offer me a drink.”

She shrugged. “It worked on Clovis.”

“I don’t think my brother came in here looking for solutions.”

“Maybe not.” C.C. raised her shoulder in a shrug before turning around again.

Lelouch watched her work behind the counter for a bit more before coming over to lean on the bar. C.C. continued to ignore him, shifting the bottle around before glancing back to the kitchen. She stepped out from behind the bar, Lelouch stepping forward before he knew what he was doing.

He touched her arm, grabbing onto it when C.C. stepped closer to him. “C.C-”

“If you came here to apologize, don’t. I don’t blame you for what happened.” She stared at him for a moment before reaching down to pick his fingers free of her arm. “If you hadn’t done it, then Mao would have gotten worse.”

“But-”

“I should have done something before it became a problem. I knew what the boy was capable of and I ignored it. Feel better?”

Lelouch let his hand fall from C.C’s arm. It wasn’t what he wanted to hear, wasn’t what he had imagined when he had vaguely thought about when he had turned towards the saloon. He had thought that there would be something more like what he had left behind on the east coast, but C.C. didn’t seem to fall into that. She seemed perfect happy to stand on her own, a relief when compared to the women who had built up their whole lives around him back in the east. Still, it was disconcerting, because it left him not knowing what to do.

She didn’t step away from him, or let go of his hand. C.C. just turned his hand over in hers before sighing. “You’re waiting to be thanked for trying to spare me the pain?”

Lelouch winced but nodded, surprised when C.C. didn’t seem to care. She just shrugged. “You’re a little late for that, boy.”

She patted his hand before turning away, walking back towards the kitchen.

It would have been the best time to let her go and to get back to his work. But Lelouch found himself stepping forward and speaking. “Like the loss of your husband?”

From the way that she stopped, Lelouch could tell that he hit a nerve. He pushed forward, taking advantage of the one time she wasn’t constantly wrong footing him. “Except that Julius Kingsley never existed. I checked the records and there’s no one of that name.”

“You don’t know much about this place. I doubt that half the people here are using their real name.”

“I didn’t just check the records. I checked the wagon train that you traveled with and I worked backwards. No one traveled with you. You just appeared one day with the story of a dead husband.”

C.C. turned around, some of her old spark back in her eyes. She rested her hands on her hips, looking him up and down. “Who said my husband was the one using a false name?”

Lelouch snapped his mouth shut, glaring at her.

It was almost a relief when she laughed and shook her head. “You do the same thing when you’re mad. You puff yourself up and look offended, just like-” C.C. shook her head. “So, what made you drop the chivalrous act and try to blackmail me? Do you want me to thank you that much?”

“No. I like to know where the people I associate with come from.”

“Look long and hard, you won’t find anything. I keep my secrets close.”

Lelouch huffed and looked away. He didn’t know why he was still trying. It was better to walk out of the saloon before he lost too much more ground. He thought he could shock C.C. into saying something, but she had easily countered everything. He squared his shoulders, about to turn on his heel when C.C. cleared her throat.

She walked up to him and cupped his cheek. “You try too hard, boy.”

“Don’t call me that.”

His quickly snapped response just got a fond smile. “I will when you stop acting like one.” She rubbed her thumb across his cheekbone. “You’ve got to earn that right.”

Before Lelouch could tell her that he was a prince and, therefore, had that right, she rocked up onto her toes and kissed him. He blinked rapidly in surprise, not having the time to respond before she was stepping away.

C.C. patted his cheek one more time before she slid her hand down his neck and off his shoulder. “You know where to find me.”

She sauntered off before he could say anything else, the slam of the door to the kitchen snapping him out of his shock. Lelouch took a quick step back, like she was still standing in front of him. Of all the things he had been expecting, he hadn’t expected _that_.

He pressed the back of his hand against his lips, ready to wipe them off when he stopped himself. He glanced back at the kitchen door before muttering a curse. He wasn’t going to stand around to be played with, there were other things that needed his attention. One infuriating woman in a saloon wasn’t going to get him so tangled up that he forgot that.

Even still, he remained standing in the saloon for a minute more, almost hoping that C.C. would come out again. Lelouch didn’t know what he would do, but he found himself looking forward to what would happen. He was sure that he would lose any verbal sparring match that they had, but if a kiss was the toll maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

Lelouch shook his head, trying to push the thoughts out of his head. He couldn’t afford to get distracted. The people of Pendragon were still on edge, even with the death of Mao. He had to watch the divide of Britannians and non-Britannians, because a war might break out at any moment, and he wouldn’t be having any of it. He needed everyone in the city and he didn’t have time for their idiocy.

That didn’t stop him from looking over his shoulder as he walked out of the saloon, some part of him hoping to catch one last glance of C.C. before he stepped out into the street.


	17. Memory

_February 1867 atb  
Pendragon, Britannia_

C.C. glanced down the royal mile, staring at the huge structure that would later become the royal palace.

There wasn’t much to it, just beams and piles of building supplies spread out over the area that the palace would later take up. There was nothing grand about it, nothing like the plans that Clovis had slaved so long over.

By now C.C. was sure that everyone in Pendragon had heard about the royal palace, it had been Clovis’ favorite topic to talk about when he would drunk. He might wander into the glory that Pendragon would come to represent, but he would always return to the palace. Half of the great buildings that Clovis had compared it to C.C. hadn’t known about, but she guessed that they were great. The only thing she had to compare the pictures that Clovis had drawn to was the original palace back in New London.

Clovis had been right about his version of the palace, it was going to be grand. He had spun stories about fluted columns with intricately carved caps, hallways of marble with plush carpet, velvet drapes and carefully patterned wallpaper. The throne room had been his favorite thing to talk about, a great hall the likes of which hadn’t been seen since King Arthur’s times. A long carpet would lead to the dais where the throne sat, flanked by two great walls that would be painted with scenes of Britannia’s greatness. Clovis had always said that he would save the honor of painting those walls for himself; he even had the sketches finished for them. C.C. had seen them and kept her mouth shut, Clovis didn’t take well to someone mocking what he thought as his great work. Everything he had chosen were just overblown stories, down to a false end to the Civil War where Charles led the empire’s troops to victory on horseback.

She didn’t know what would happen to the palace now that Clovis was dead, but she didn’t think that it would change much. Some of the more tacky decorations were sure to go, but she couldn’t imagine Lelouch scaling down. For all of his disgust at the lines that seemed to divide different races of people, Lelouch was very aware of the divide between the royal family and everyone else. If the palace was grand, then it was all part of the carefully calculated show that he put on. It would be just as much of a statement as the first palace had been. The Britannians had taken the building that the colonists had been building for their future government and made it their own.

C.C. gave the skeleton of the palace one last glance before shrugging and turning away. It didn’t matter which design would be used, all she knew that it wouldn’t be the same. She would expected to walk into the building at one point, she didn’t think that Lelouch would stoop to keep coming to the saloon for her once his palace was done. It would be everything that the palace back in New London was, but still wrong. The hallways would be wrong, the people would be wrong. Marianne wouldn’t be there.

She found herself walking a bit faster, but she didn’t bother to slow herself down. She wanted to put as much distance between herself and the lurking reminder of the things she had run away from.

Camlann Street was safe, it looked nothing like the world she had left behind. Maybe it was because she had helped mold most of it and maybe because it was her own little slice of the empire. All she knew was that she never looked up and expected to see Marianne lingering at the bar. The empress wouldn’t have done that, not by the time they had met. Marianne might have started out as a commoner and she might have clung to some of her old habits, but the rest she had stripped away.

An empress didn’t go to saloons or spend a night on the town like she used to. The only one she focused on was Charles. There hadn’t been room in her life for the girl she had once kissed and laughed with.

As far as C.C. was concerned there was only so much time she got on earth, and she wasn’t going to spend it longing after a woman who had moved on. It was better to dump everything that she had once been and get as far away as possible. She had no one to miss her after all.

She had thought she had gotten away from the empire, not that she had ever really believed it. There was no escaping the empire, it would eventually come rolling over everyone as it continued to inch along. The empire might not have crashed down on her, but it had wiggled its way back in with Marianne’s children.

She had run away only to find herself back in the same situation, but at least Lelouch actually cared. Even when his gaze strayed to Suzaku, C.C. was sure that he would always look back at her. There was no jealousy there, they all just knew how they fit together. C.C. had thought she had figured that out with Marianne, but she wasn’t sure where Charles had been in the equation. Apparently it had been too hard for Marianne to figure out too, because she had chosen Charles.

C.C. paused on a street corner to let a wagon rattle past. She looked over her shoulder at the palace again, staring at the beams before shaking her head. If she was having problems dealing with the ghosts of her past, then maybe she hadn’t adjusted as well as she thought she had. Some part of her was still that girl running from a broken heart. What the rest of her was C.C. didn’t know.

She played with the fake marriage band on her finger. C.C. glanced down at it before tugging it off. She had worn it all the way to Pendragon, using it to deflect questions about her. Mrs. Kingsley was better than what she had been before, at least a fake husband had been comforting. Now, he was just annoying.

C.C. dropped the ring into her basket, flexing her finger as she got used to the sensation. She would sell the ring when she got the chance, or gift it to Mary Cardemonde. There was someone who would need it more than she did.

She stepped down into the street when the wagon finally passed, heading back to her saloon. There were things to do before it opened for the night, and she still had to find someone to take over Mao’s job. Later she would have time to think about what she had become after years away from the east. All she knew was that she wasn’t Marianne’s girl anymore, that girl had died somewhere along the trail west. What remained was something different and a woman that belonged to herself alone.


	18. Morbid

_March 1867 atb  
Pendragon, Britannia_

Kallen pulled Guren to an abrupt stop, the mare skewing sideways at the pressure on the reins. She cursed and tried to get the horse to lean the other way so she wouldn’t foul up the others riding behind her. She felt Guren jerk as Dorothea and Bedivere knocked into the mare’s hindquarters. Kallen was quick to pull Guren away so the mare wouldn’t snap or kick, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the sight that was laid out in front of her.

Bodies hung from the sparse trees and the builder’s scaffolds. More had been left on the ground; all of them hacked nearly to pieces.

She saw Tamaki nearly throw himself off of his horse, Kallen turning her head slightly to watch him as he ran a few steps before falling onto his hands and knees. Kallen winced at the sound of Tamaki throwing up, looking away before she got caught up in it. Her stomach was rolling enough as it was, Kallen not sure if it was disgust or anger, but she didn’t want to think too much about it.

She slid off of Guren’s back, letting the reins drag on the ground. The mare wouldn’t move any closer to the bodies, not with the smell they were putting off, but she wouldn’t want to leave the rest of the horses. Besides, if Guren ran, there was really no other place for her to go other than her stables. It would be a walk, but that was the last thing on Kallen’s mind.

A cloud of flies drifted from the closest body as she waked past it. Kallen stared down at the body, tugging at the collar of her shirt. She pulled it over her nose and mouth, swallowing as she knelt down to look at the body. Kallen reached for the body, heisting just before she touched it.

There was nothing specific about the injuries that the man had suffered. She shuffled around the body, looking for other clues. She could see a few gunshot wounds, but nothing too telling.

She sighed and rocked back onto her heels, looking back at the others. Most of the newcomers looked disgusted and sick, but Dorothea and Villetta looked angry. Kallen nodded at the two of them before standing up, walking back to her mare.

Dorothea leaned over to snatch up Guren’s reins, holding them out for Kallen. She didn’t bother to mount up, not with Lelouch sure to come over the rise at any moment. The prince had gone off to talk with one of the groups working on the aqueduct that would bring water to the city of Pendragon as well as the fake river that would run around the royal residence. They had come out to check on the whole affair, but Lelouch had sent them on to check on the furthest end of the aqueduct with the reassurance that he would be along soon enough.

A mutter spread through the group, Kallen glancing over at Dorothea and Villetta. Out of everyone in the group, they were the veterans of the guard that Lelouch had put together. The rest had been gathered during the slow escalation of the silent war that had been going on between Lelouch and Luciano. So far, they hadn’t seen anything, just their patrols around the building sites and learning the way of the land. Kallen glanced over at the bodies and shivered. They would be seeing action soon enough.

She jerked her head up at the sound of approaching horses. Kallen pulled on Guren’s reins, leading the mare up to where Lelouch and Suzaku were pulling up their horses. She saw Lelouch go white before he looked away. Kallen glanced at Suzaku as he nudged his horse between Lelouch and the bodies.

Despite his surprise, the prince managed to control himself. Lelouch swallowed harshly and looked down at her. “What happened here?”

Kallen shrugged. “It was like this when we got here.”

“Who did this?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t see any arrows.” She narrowed her eyes at Lelouch, daring him to rush to a conclusion. When he didn’t say anything, she crossed her arms over her chest. “It wasn’t a raid. They hung people.”

Lelouch stood up in his stirrups, scanning over the field. He sat back quickly, Kallen seeing his hands shaking. “Spread out. Find who did this.”

“We won’t need to!” Villetta called out from her place at the front of the group.

Kallen turned around, clenching her hands into fists as she saw Luciano and the Britannian guards walking out onto the field.

Luciano smiled and spread out his arms. “You came too early, your highness. We didn’t get to clean up for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I meant the job we were sent here to do. By order of his majesty and under the suggestion of Ms. Lohmeyer, we were told to deal with any troublemakers. You should be happy, the jail cells are empty and the worst of Pendragon are gone. All we have left are those damned Indians.”

Kallen dropped her hand to her gun, barely hearing the warning that Lelouch gave her. She didn’t care what he had to say, Luciano was threatening her brother, her people. Lelouch could shout orders at her as much as he liked, but she wasn’t going to let Luciano kill them.

She wasn’t the only one, there were others in the group that were taking out their guns and cocking them without an order. They were all sick of Luciano parading himself around Pendragon, shoving the rest of them around because the emperor had decided to knight him.

“Kallen!”

“Having problems with her? We could fix that.”

Kallen shivered at the insinuation, but she didn’t move her hand from her gun. She wasn’t going to listen too much more of what Luciano had to say, not after what he had done. Killing all the criminals in jail and the people that _he_ had decided her too dangerous was the last straw. If Lelouch didn’t make his decision what to do about the knight now, then Kallen was sure that the rest of his guard would make up his mind for him.

She pulled her gun from its holster, looking back over her shoulder at Lelouch. The prince had his fingers curled around the reins and the horn of his saddle.

Lelouch glanced down at her, Kallen watching as his gaze trailed over the rest of his guard. It was obvious that the prince was thinking, even if Kallen wished that he would hurry up. She didn’t care that this wasn’t the best place to fight, they had to make a stand here or else Luciano would take it as permission to continue with what he was doing.

She reached behind her for Guren’s reins, not taking her eyes off the prince. She kept her voice low as she spoke to him. “We’re not leaving here without one of us being dead.”

Lelouch made a sound that could have been a laugh, but he broke off his long stare. He sat up in the saddle, motioning for his guard. “Ohgi, take the others and ride back to the workers. Bring the buckboards back, we’ll need them. Villetta, Dorothea, stay here.”

Kallen watched as the newer members of the guard started moving away. She threw a glance back at Lelouch, raising an eyebrow when he didn’t move from his horse. His hand did slide down to where his sword hung off of Shinkiro’s shoulder, Kallen wanting to laugh at him. She couldn’t imagine Lelouch just charging in with a sword, not when all of them were pistols and rifles.

Lelouch drummed his fingers against the hilt of the sword before nodding at her. “Don’t miss.”

Kallen snorted, swinging up onto Guren’s back. She didn’t dignify Lelouch’s order with a response, nudging her mare to stand with Villetta and Dorothea.

Luciano just seemed amused by their show of force, not bothering to reach for his own weapon. He just rocked back onto his heels and laughed. The man dropped his hand to rest on his gun. “The prince wants to fight. Think we can take on his girls?”

The rest of the guards laughed and pulled out their guns. Kallen saw Villetta stiffen out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head just enough to see the grimace that passed over the woman’s face. Villetta tipped her head to the side, Kallen watching as she aimed her gun at one of the guards. “Let me have Kewell.”

Kallen considered the woman for a moment before shrugging. She didn’t care who they aimed at, just as long as none of them missed too badly. She glanced over at Dorothea, watching as the woman shrugged. Kallen grinned and adjusted her aim. She curled her finger around the trigger before she stopped herself. Lelouch hadn’t given an order, something that Kallen was willing to ignore most of the time, but the prince could have a plan that she didn’t know of. After all, he had sent their backup away.

She chewed on her lip for a moment before she tightened her hold on Guren’s reins. “Lelouch…”

“What’s the matter, your highness? Do you just want to stand off? We won’t tell if you’ve come to your senses, right boys?” The guards around Luciano laughed, joining their leader.

Kallen was so focused on them that she almost didn’t hear Lelouch. She saw the shape of his horse move up beside her, glancing over to the side to see Suzaku nudging Lancelot into place.

She didn’t wait for his orders. She saw his mouth open to give the order, but she took the shot before Lelouch could speak the word.

Kallen squeezed the trigger, feeling the slight recoil. Guren sidled underneath her, Kallen clamping her legs around the mare’s side to keep her from fouling the others’ aim. Even as her mare tried to move away, she stared at the guards that were standing in front of them.

Luciano collapsed onto the ground, Kallen sparing at moment to grin at her victory before she chose her next target. Another guard fell, this one clutching at his arm. Kallen hissed, about to go for a third man when Lelouch swept his arm out. She jerked her arm back, Villetta and Dorothea quick to follow. She looked over at Lelouch for an explanation, not amused by the prince’s grin.

Lelouch looked her way and shook his head. “I want some of them alive to put on trial.”

“Why?”

“To make a point.” Lelouch turned his horse away from her. “Suzaku, Dorothea, make sure they don’t get away.”

The two of them galloped off after the three remaining men, Kallen rolling her eyes at the sight. She didn’t care about Lelouch making his point. Dragging the bodies of the guards would have made the point well enough, and it would be far clearer than any lesson that Lelouch tried to teach with a trial. They could hang with all the men they had killed.

She glanced back at the rise, sighing when she didn’t see Ohgi and the others. Lelouch would want them to hang around until they could load all of the bodies into the wagons. She shivered, looking over Guren’s shoulder at one of the bodies. She didn’t want to spend the rest of the day hauling bodies back into Pendragon; they would stick to high heaven by the time that they got back to the city.

Kallen nudged Guren forward, ignoring the way the mare pranced as they picked their way over to where Luciano had fallen. The flighty mare didn’t enjoy being in among the dead bodies, but Kallen needed to check.

She swung off of Guren’s back, holding the rein’s tightly as the mare tried to get away from the body. Kallen groaned as the mare’s tugging pulled at her shoulder. She twisted to kick at Luciano’s shoulder, watching as the body rocked. Kallen snorted, leaning over to stare at Luciano’s body.

Blood stained the front of his shirt, Kallen whistling at the neat hole over his heart. She had missed her head shot, but she had managed something just as good. She grinned to herself and looked around, catching sight of Villetta kicking at Kewel’s body. Kallen left Villetta to what she was doing. She sighed and started leading Guren out of the field. She wanted to get out of the execution ground as fast as possible, and she wouldn’t be able to do that while holding her horse.

She pulled Guren back up the bank of the river, looking around for a tree that didn’t have a body hanging from it, except that none of them were free. Kallen sighed and dropped the reins on the ground. Ohgi and the others would tie Guren up when they got back and she trusted the mare not to wander too far. Kallen patted Guren’s shoulder, giving the mare a long look before walking back down into the drained riverbed.


	19. Middle

_March 1867 atb  
Pendragon, Britannia_

Clovis’ desk was piled high with paper; maps, memos and scraps of notes were all shoved together. Lelouch thought he saw a couple of telegrams from the capital, but he didn’t want to reach into the mess to see who they were from. He was sure that the pile of paper would just slide off the desk if he tried to pull the telegrams out. Besides, he was sure that they were mostly from Charles demanding news on how things were progressing or from Clovis’ friends back in court keeping him up to date with what was going on. The entire thing was a mess, one that Lelouch hadn’t touched since Clovis’ murder, and that had been just over half a year ago.

He sighed and sunk into the chair, staring at the mess. The most he had done was pull the things he needed from the pile, not caring if everything else shifted. Lelouch was sure that he had managed to get everything that he need. If he hadn’t found them, then the staff that he had slowly been building had found what he needed. All of that had been at the cost of all of the records that Clovis left behind, or what his older brother called records.

Lelouch stared at a rough sketch of a woman that was dumped in the pile. He flicked at the paper, watching it flutter to the ground. He winced at the sight of the numbers that were scrawled all over the page. Lelouch was sure that they were the numbers he had searched for in the panic that followed Clovis’ murder. Lelouch had managed to track down most of the numbers he had needed and he had guessed the rest. There hadn’t been any uproar from the capital, not that Lelouch had expected any. Charles had more important things to take care of since Clovis had been avenged properly. The only thing close enough to a chastising had come from his brother Schneizel. That had just been a warning to keep the building work moving to make sure their father was pleased, like Lelouch could forget about that.

He slouched in the chair, aimlessly leafing through the papers that he had let sit. He didn’t need the reminder that he was only still out in Pendragon at his father’s pleasure. It was an informal exile, one that Lelouch requested because he hadn’t wanted to stay around Richmond while Charles dealt with the aftermath of the war. As soon as his father changed his mind, he and Nunnally could be replaced easily. There were probably plenty of loyal nobles that were waiting for a reward, and the viceroy of the Arizona territory would be a great position, especially with Pendragon situated inside the territory.

More papers slid off of the desk, Lelouch watching them flutter to the ground. He sighed as they slipped into a pile on the floor, tempted to kick them away and just leave them for the cleaning staff. He could order them to burn everything but the maps, because he didn’t need the rest of Clovis’ notes. He had made his own notes, ones that actually reflected the work that was being done instead of Clovis’ fantastic ideas about what the city could be. At least he had gotten that done quickly; Lelouch couldn’t imagine trying to deal with the mess that Clovis had left behind and the rest of the territory.

He flinched when the door opened, frowning when C.C. slipped into the room. Lelouch sat back up in his chair, not bothering to turn and face her. “You could have knocked.”

“I could have, but you wouldn’t have let me in.” She didn’t give him time to respond, shoving some of the papers off his desk and sitting herself on the edge. C.C. watched him, probably waiting for him to tell her off for messing with the desk, but there was no point, not when he was planning to get rid of it all in the first place. Lelouch just gave her an even look, C.C. matching it for a moment before she looked away.

She sighed and pulled her bonnet off of her head. C.C. looked away from him, reaching back to pull at the pins in her hair.

Lelouch swallowed as her hair tumbled over her shoulders. He wasn’t used to seeing it down, C.C. usually wore it up to better tuck it under hats and to keep it away from the back of her neck. Lelouch couldn’t blame her for it considering the weather in Pendragon, but it always hit him like a punch to the gut.

C.C. didn’t seem to notice, she just shook her hair out before looking at him. “The city council has come to talk to you.”

“Pendragon doesn’t have a council.”

“They’ve elected themselves and they want to see the viceroy.”

Lelouch stared at her for a moment, waiting for some part of her expression to crack. It was hard to tell when C.C. was joking most of the time, but he was sure that it was getting better at it.

Her expression didn’t move, Lelouch watching as she finished with her hair. C.C. carefully coiled it before pinning it in place again. She didn’t tie her bonnet back on, but the fact that she had at least made a nod to social conventions meant that she wasn’t joking.

He sighed and rubbed at his forehead. “What do they want?”

“I don’t know. They didn’t bother to tell me anything.” C.C. tipped her head back with a hum. “But they didn’t pay attention when I listened into the conversation. It was something about the Indians.”

Lelouch huffed, not bothering to push C.C. for more. If the so called council was coming to talk to him about the Indians, then they would be trying to argue their point about the arrangements that Clovis had kept up before. Lelouch would have to review them, but he hadn’t seen anything wrong with them as it was. The two groups avoided each other for a tenuous peace, but Lelouch was willing to leave it like that until he came up with a better solution.

He glanced over at C.C. watching as she swung her legs. There wasn’t a way to avoid the council, Lelouch was sure that they would just hang around the royal residence until they managed to corner him. Besides, that’s how Clovis had run his territory, avoiding things that he hadn’t wanted to do until someone else took care of it or Clovis hadn’t been able to avoid it any longer. His half-brother seemed to never have to resort to the latter, especially since the people who lived around Pendragon seemed eager to take things into their own hands. Lelouch was almost sure that the council was going to try and goad him into another war.

Lelouch heaved himself out of his chair, giving his coat a perfunctory brush down. He glanced over at C.C, trying to predict what she would do. She didn’t give him a clue, C.C. leaning over to shift through the leftover papers on Clovis’ desk. She didn’t seem interested in any of it, more like she was waiting for him to leave. Lelouch gave up on trying to read her, the council wouldn’t wait long enough for him to make a breakthrough.

He tugged on the sleeve of his jacket, glaring at the stain that was on it. Lelouch doubted that the council would notice, none of the men in Pendragon seemed to be too focused on what they looked like. Stainless clothes were a luxury for working men and the more that he was like them, the more they seemed to like him. But being liked was not important, keeping the territory from collapsing was.

“Will you be staying?”

C.C. shrugged and continued leafing through the papers. Lelouch waited a moment for an answer, giving up when she didn’t respond. He assumed that she would hang around until she heard what he and the council had decided. If the talks took long enough then she would leave to look after her saloon. After that, he would have to wait until she was back from the saloon in the early hours of the morning, not that he would be asleep. He would probably still be trying to sort out the mess that the council wanted to make.

Lelouch gave his coat one more brush off before walking out of the door, forcing a smile on his face when he heard the sound of voices arguing down the hall. He glanced over his shoulder, catching the grin that C.C. shot him. Lelouch huffed and strode down the hall, ignoring the faint sound of C.C. laughing behind him.


	20. Voice

_March 1867 atb  
Pendragon, Britannia_

Kallen shoved the doors to Lelouch’s office open. It was slightly satisfying to see the viceroy jump, even more so when she saw his pen stutter across the paper he was signing. She hoped that it ruined whatever he was signing, Lelouch deserved it.

She didn’t give Lelouch time to recover from his shock, storming over to his desk and leaning over it. She got a glimpse of what he had been writing, but didn’t bother reading it. Her attention was for the viceroy alone.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Lelouch looked up from his papers, raising an eyebrow. “I’m signing building reports.”

“Not that!” Kallen slammed her hands on the desk. The inkwell came close to toppling over, but Lelouch caught it. Kallen watched the motion, angry that Lelouch was still paying more attention to his papers than to her. “I’m talking about what those idiots outside are talking about.”

Lelouch’s eyes narrowed, the first sign that he was really listening to her. He pressed his fingers together, leaning forward slightly. “Which idiots are you talking about?”

“Those men _you_ appointed to the city council.”

“I didn’t appoint them to anything.” Lelouch’s voice was annoyingly level. “They appointed themselves.”

“Then stop them. They’re talking about taking out a posse and killing people.”

Lelouch sighed and rubbed his forehead. “They’re talking about the Indians again.”

Kallen bristled at the title, but at least it was better than what the men had been saying. They weren’t redskins, they weren’t Numbers. They were people, not animals. She clenched her hands into fists, not caring that they were shaking. “What are you going to do about it?”

Lelouch stared at her for a moment, Kallen expecting him to just wave her away. For all of the fair decisions he had made, he was still a Britannian and a member of the royal family at that. She had seen what kind of life the nobles had lived when she had been back on the east coast. They didn’t care about anything as long as their precious life wasn’t interrupted. Kallen was sure that the royal family wasn’t much better, especially considering that they had the power to make sure that life never changed. She could never expect a Britannian to understand. It had been a waste of her time coming to him the first place.

She glared at him before turning on her heel. She wouldn’t let him just think that he could come out to the west and play around. If that was the case, then he was worse that Clovis. At least Clovis had been honest about what he had come out to do. The prince might have come to build a city, but he had spent most of his time playing around. Lelouch had made them all think that he cared and now he was siding with the Britannians that were starting to flood in.

Kallen wasn’t sure what she was angrier about the fact that Lelouch had been tricking them or the fact that he had starting to side with the other Britannians.

“Kallen wait.”

She stopped despite herself, turning her head to look at him over her shoulder. “Why? You want to hand me over to them? I’d like to see you try.”

Lelouch could order all he wanted to, but Kallen doubted that any of the others would help him. Everyone Lelouch had chosen for his guard was someone that would sympathize with her. The council was already shouting for the Orientals to be thrown out of the city  for the sake of the ‘real hardworking men’ in the territory and Kallen knew that Dorothea had punched a few men for suggesting that she was nothing more than property. Even Suzaku would back her up, even if he was close to Lelouch.

She watched him carefully, glad that Lelouch looked shocked. He deserved to be called out on his stupid ideas since no one else would dare.

Lelouch didn’t move from behind his desk, but he did lean forward. Kallen didn’t know if he was trying to intimidate her, but it wasn’t working. She was tempted to turn around and just walk out of the room, but she needed to know which way he was going to go. If he was going start leaning towards the city council, then she wouldn’t hesitate to leave the city behind and it looked like Lelouch knew that too.

He leveled an even glare at her before sitting back in his chair. “Do you really think so badly of me?”

“I don’t know. It depends on what you’re going to tell me.”

Lelouch rolled his eyes. “I _didn’t_ appoint those men, they’re acting on their own.”

“So rein them in.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “What would you expect me to do?”

“Arrest them. Send them out of the city. Strip them of their power. Keep them from doing what they’re threatening to do.”

“And then what? Do I do that every time someone starts protesting? And what if it’s someone that you support? Will you let me do the same?” Lelouch shook his head. “No, we can do better than that. After all, what those men are talking about is declaring war on their fellow Britannians. I think everyone has had enough of civil war, don’t you think?”

Kallen watched as Lelouch went back to shuffling through his papers, like he had explained the whole situation to her. She shifted in place before giving in. “So what’s your plan?”

“I intend to inform the local tribes of their rights, first of all.” Lelouch pushed a few pieces of paper towards her, Kallen not bothering to pick them up. Lelouch didn’t seem to notice, he was too busy searching through another stack. “Since Father declared that the Northern provinces are Area 1, the territory ceded to the Indians have become a part of Britannia. Therefore, they are full citizens instead of Numbers, with all the same rights and privileges.”

“They won’t care.”

“The might not, but it’s something that they should know. The Britannians aren’t going to stop pushing west, which means more bad deals for them. What I want to give them is the best chance they will get to negotiate for themselves and a better idea how to deal with the tribes, which is why I’m sending you out to talk with them.”

Kallen paused in the middle of reaching out of the papers, quickly jerking her hand back. “Why? Because I’m the resident Indian?”

“Yes, but also because I know you’ve spent time with the tribes around here. Your mother might not have been from around here, but you and your brother made yourself quite welcome among some of the people here. If my sources are right, your brother has been adopted into one of them. You, however, turned it down. Afraid of Lord Howard Stadtfeld coming to get you back?”

Kallen curled her fingers into fists. “How do you know all of that?”

“I looked into all of you, if only to make sure I had a way to get you out of any trouble that anyone tried to make. I don’t want to lose the people I trust, not out here.” Lelouch nudged the papers towards her. “And I want to know that I have a trustworthy staff. Now, about your errand.”

Kallen blinked at the sudden change of subject. She glanced down at the papers, skimming over what Lelouch had written before looking up at Lelouch again. She didn’t like that Lelouch had looked into her past, but she should have expected that from an imperial prince. She rolled her eyes, tempted to shove the papers back at Lelouch. Then again, she had demanded that Lelouch do something, and this was his solution. It was better than riding out and just joining in the raiding parties until something got done. That had been done before and it hadn’t done anything; it had only brought the Britannian military down on them.

She sighed and grabbed the papers, rolling them up. She ignored the way that Lelouch winced at her rough treatment of them. “How long do I have?”

“I want this done right, Kallen. Take what time you need.” He waved towards the door, clearly a dismissal.

Kallen huffed at the casual dismissal, turning on her heel and walking away. She grasped the papers tightly in her hand, halfway tempted to throw them away.

No one would be interested in what Lelouch had to offer, it would probably be taken as another false promise, which would probably turn into another war. Kallen knew who would lose if that was the case, which made Lelouch’s plan the only option she could think of, not that she liked it. No one would believe that the tribes were actually part of Britannia, especially since most of them didn’t want to be pulled into the empire. All they wanted was to be left alone, and that was the one thing that Lelouch couldn’t promise.

Still, it was better than the answer she had that she would get when she had stormed into the viceroy’s office. At least it wasn’t the wholesale slaughter that she had been expecting. Even if it was the better alternative, they would still need a miracle to pull it off.


	21. Witchcraft

_December 1867 atb  
Pendragon, Britannia_

C.C. walked quickly through the hallways of the half built palace, hearing the distant sounds of hammering coming from the other wings.

In the months she had been gone the progress on the imperial residence had moved quickly, far more quickly than the first bit of Pendragon. That had Lelouch’s hand all over it. He wasn’t like Clovis, constantly caught between the two companies that had come into being, the Pendragon township that had just started when he had rolled in and the contractors that had been given to Clovis by the emperor. Clovis had struggled with them, but Lelouch had beat them into some kind of shape and had gotten the whole project under control, or as under control as anything could be so far away from the capital.

She turned the corner, heading into the one wing of the palace that was completed, and currently holding the viceroy and his sister if the rushing of the staff said anything. The guards said more than enough as well, especially with the way that they leered.

C.C. glared right back at them, watching as they shuffled and looked away. At least the guards on duty were the newer ones, not that C.C. expected anything else. After what had happened to Luciano and the other guards the new hires were careful about how they treated anyone that was close to the viceroy. As long as they didn’t try to challenge Lelouch like their predecessors did, C.C. didn’t care. There was enough trouble in the territory without the guard agitating for something.

At least there was one less problem now, or would be as soon as she had finished shaking the dust from the road off of his skirts. Anything to follow would be up to Lelouch, and she could go back to the life she enjoyed; her mornings and afternoons spent in leisure while her evenings were spent in her saloon. Running her own business had always been interesting, mostly because of the people that stumbled in and out of her doors, but not because of what they had to say. With royal presence in Pendragon, the stories that they passed around were getting more and more interesting.

She swept into a grand hall, C.C. pausing to stare at the portraits that were displayed. She had heard somewhere that Clovis had thought himself a painter, and that his paintings were being displayed in the imperial palace in his memory. From what she could see, they weren’t bad. They were mostly of his family or the landscapes of the territory. C.C. couldn’t imagine how he had gotten them because she didn’t remember Clovis ever riding out beyond Pendragon’s bounds.

She reached up to touch the frame of the portrait of Marianne and her children. That was one of the finest in the hall.

Clovis had managed to get her smile right, something that none of the other royal painters had gotten right. There was always a bit of mischief and life in Marianne’s smile, not the simpering one that was always painted on the royal consorts. C.C. tapped the frame one more time before turning and sweeping down the hall to the slightly open door.

Dorothea was out on guard, the colored girl not moving from her careful stance of attention. She did nod as C.C. came closer, her eyes sweeping the hallway that C.C. had just walked down. C.C. saw Dorothea’s eyebrow twitch up before her face smoothed out again. “Reporting back in one piece?”

“Mostly.” That got a snort of laughter from Dorothea. C.C. shrugged and tipped her head towards the room. “I’m going to report in before his royal highness frets himself to death.”

Dorothea nodded curtly, going back to her guard shift. She seemed to be paying more attention to the end of the hallway that she had come from, probably looking for Kallen. With C.C. and Kallen gone to the reservation and camps in the immediate area, it had only been Dorothea, Villetta and Suzaku back in Pendragon, a hefty task while training a new royal guard.

C.C. stepped into the large room, surprised Villetta wasn’t in the room. C.C. guessed that Lelouch had sent her out into Pendragon to look after one part of the construction or another. The only people at the table were Earl Asplund, his assistant, Suzaku and the viceroy himself.

Her presence wasn’t noticed at first, but Lloyd’s enthusiastic speech was soon cut short as Cecile elbowed him. The earl shot her a glance, beaming at her before getting up. “More important news has come in. We’ll discuss this later. Come, Cecile, we have streetlamps to tinker with.”

The earl and his assistant swept out of the room, Dorothea quick to close the doors. C.C. gave the doors a single glance before walking around the edges of the room, going to the cabinet to pour herself a drink. With a glass of scotch in hand, she took the open chair on Lelouch’s left side. She slumped into the chair with a sigh, raising her glass in a salute to Lelouch. “Consider the mission a success.”

Lelouch raised an eyebrow at that. “It may be too early to say that. Kallen?”

“She’ll follow soon. She’s spending a few days with her brother. He might be able to help us, but I think Kallen is just using it as a family visit. She won’t like it if you interrupt.”

Lelouch snorted, leaning forward to tap at her glass. “Isn’t it early for that?”

“Ride all day and you’ll change your mind.” C.C. grinned at him before sipping at her glass, shooting a glance over at Suzaku. He seemed as amused as she was. He mimed raising a glass to her, not bothering to hide the motion from Lelouch.

The viceroy gave them both a glare before sitting back in his chair. “Fine. What do you have for me?”

“The tribes on the reservations will probably swing your way some enough. The ones still resisting the empire’s law will take longer. They’re not under the same pressure.”

“They probably won’t appear until I promise them everything that they want.” Lelouch sighed and shook his head. He remained quiet for a moment before waving his hand. “We’ll see what they want and then I’ll see what I can do. It’s not like I’m the emperor.”

C.C. smiled around the lip of her glass, noting that Lelouch was smiling as well. He raised one shoulder in a shrug, scooting closer to her.

Suzaku leaned against the table, C.C. watching as Lelouch almost absently reached out to rest his hand over Suzaku’s. A few moments after, she felt Lelouch’s foot slide alongside hers. For a moment, she felt his toes slide up to her ankle before his foot dropped back to the floor. She watched him carefully from over the rim of her glass. There was a promise there, something that she would be taking advantage of, just as soon as she didn’t feel like she was still swallowing the dust of the road.

She sipped at her drink, taking her time before she spoke again. “You’re planning another miracle.”

Lelouch shrugged. “I might pass, save the miracle for something else. I have a witch on my side. I might as well use her for something.”

C.C. laughed and shook her head. “If you want magic, talk to Kallen. I intend to bathe and make sure that Sayoko can handle the saloon for the night. And then…”

She shrugged, giving both Lelouch and Suzaku a teasing smile before getting to her feet. Suzaku was the only one to respond, getting to his feet and offering her his arm. C.C. shared and conspiratorial smile with him before looking back over at Lelouch, just barely keeping herself from laughing at his shocked look.

She turned, gently tugging at Suzaku’s arm. Lelouch would eventually recover and follow after them in his own time. They just had to give him time. As soon as Lelouch sorted himself out, then they could celebrate the success of the mission.


	22. Longueur

_December 1867 atb  
Pendragon, Britannia_

Suzaku stretched, his knuckles brushing against an arm. He turned his head, smiling when he saw Lelouch sprawled out on the covers. He huffed and turned over, trailing his fingers up Lelouch’s arm. As he expected, Lelouch didn’t stir. The most the prince did was sigh and press his face deeper into the pillow. Suzaku smiled at that, rolling over further until he felt his hand slide over the back of the third person in the bed.

C.C. actually lifted her head from the pillow, Suzaku almost surprised to see her awake. She had stumbled in early in the morning, long after Lelouch had fallen asleep. Suzaku had woken up only long enough to be sure that she wasn’t a threat before rolling over and going back to sleep. He had thought that she would take advantage of Lelouch’s free schedule to sleep in.

He waved her back down, surprised when she reached out to grab his hand. Suzaku let her, twisting to follow the tug on his arm. C.C. tugged until Suzaku’s arm was over Lelouch’s back, their joined hands resting on her stomach. She rubbed her thumb across the back of his knuckles. “Looks like you two had fun without me?”

“We could have waited.”

“His royal highness couldn’t make it. He’s running himself ragged.” C.C. sounded fond, Suzaku halfway expecting her to use her free hand to pat Lelouch on the head. “Shouldn’t you do something about it?”

“You think I can do that? You rein him in.”

“I’m not paid enough for that.” He felt her stretch. “How about we switch? You run the saloon and I guard him.”

“How about you both keep quiet.”

Suzaku ignored the sleepy grumble from Lelouch. He did roll closer, Lelouch making a noise that could be satisfaction. Suzaku shifted so he could prop his chin up on Lelouch’s shoulder. His new position gave him a glimpse of C.C’s face. Suzaku studied what he could see of her face, noting how relaxed she looked. He sighed, giving into the temptation to respond to her teasing. “I wouldn’t be good at it. Half of them come for you.”

“Flatterer.”

He chuckled, turning his head so he could kiss Lelouch’s shoulder. It wouldn’t appease the prince, but he wanted to do it. He wanted to take every advantage that he could while they were in private. Once they stepped out of Lelouch’s suite he would have to take a step back. Lelouch and C.C. could carry on even if their relationship was barely tolerated, no one would tell a prince that he couldn’t have an affair. But people would talk if they saw him with Lelouch or C.C. in that way. He was barely tolerated as a guard, and he certainly wouldn’t be acceptable as anything else.

Lelouch shifted under him. “You’re heavy.”

“Uncomfortable?”

“I like where he is.” C.C. piped up.

“Quiet.” The order had no bite in it, Lelouch sounding resigned to being sprawled over. He even reached for Suzaku’s hand. He was quiet for a while, just playing with Suzaku’s fingers. “Are you going to let me up?”

“You don’t have anything until after noon.”

“That doesn’t mean-”

“Quiet.” Lelouch yelped as C.C. kicked him, Suzaku feeling Lelouch’s legs tangle in his legs as the prince scooted away. C.C. sighed, her fingers relaxing around his. “Some of us were doing legitimate business last night.”

Lelouch laughed, earning another kick. Suzaku soothed the prince with a kiss. “It’s a legitimate business.”

“I know you would take her side.”

“I’m taking the side that makes you sleep.”

C.C. lifted her head. “Thank you Suzaku.”

He gave her a smile and settle back down. It was surprisingly comfortable on Lelouch’s shoulder.

Suzaku nuzzled closer, closing his eyes. He felt Lelouch take a deep breath, expecting the prince to come up with some snappy comment. Instead, he just sighed, Suzaku feeling Lelouch’s muscles relax. He took it as a momentary surrender. Lelouch would never admit to being exhausted, this was the closest that he would get to saying it. A few more hours would do all of them good.

He lifted his head just enough to check on the door, letting himself relax when he saw that it was closed. No one would bother the prince without knocking and security was taken care of. If he remembered right, it was Villetta on guard outside of the room.

Suzaku felt a tug on his hand. “Suzaku?”

It was an invitation, one that Suzaku eagerly accepted. He settled his head back on Lelouch’s shoulder, closed his eyes and listening to the two of them breathe.


	23. Fragile

_April 1868 atb  
Pendragon, Britannia_

Nunnally leaned on the balcony railing, using it to hold herself slightly upright. From her position, she could see down the grand avenue that led out into the city proper. Her arms shook a bit as she hoisted herself up a little further, careful not to let her wheelchair scoot too far back. She didn’t want to be stranded out on the balcony, not while Lelouch was running around frantic.

As far as Nunnally knew, there had been no news from Richmond, which meant that someone was willing to leave Lelouch in charge.

She would be lying if the thought didn’t thrill her. She had watched Pendragon start to grow, and there was some part of her that wanted to see the city finished. It had been Clovis’ dream and it was only fair that they saw it through until the end.

Besides there was something about being out in the Arizona territory, something exciting. It was open air, open skies and nothing like she had seen back in Richmond. There was beauty in the hills of Virginia, the way the trees would turn to fire in the fall and the green underneath them. But out here were the colors of the earth, all browns and yellows without a hill or tree to be seen. Nunnally had heard the others describe what they had seen when they had ridden out, or the things that Kallen had seen on the way over. It wasn’t the carefully regimented beauty that was the easy coast, all orchards or laid out farmlands. Nunnally couldn’t see anyone dividing the desert up. They might try in Pendragon, but the sand would always come rolling in. They would never be able to forget where they were.

Nunnally took a deep breath before lowering herself back into the wheelchair. She mourned the loss of the view that she had had while almost standing. She might not be able to see the grand avenue that led up to the halfway finished royal palace, but she had seen the maps enough to know what it would look like.

She had also seen the maps that Clovis had worked on, ones where the city was laid out in full color.  She had one hanging up in her room. Nunnally liked to look at it before she went to sleep, tracing out the roads and buildings in all their bright glory.

Clovis had wanted to bring trees to the desert, have them on the streets like they had been back in New London. He had wanted gardens and cobbles to keep the sand and dirt from turning into muck on the days when it did rain. On the far side of the palace there was to be an ornamental lake, one that would double as a reservoir for the royal palace. Another reservoir would be made out the outside of town to serve the people, a dam and aqueduct built to  make sure that it would never run dry. The shining capital of the west would be built out of marble and brick, like everything had been back home. It would be another Rome.

Nunnally was almost glad that Lelouch had stalled those plans. There was something about adobe and wood that seemed to fit the place better than Clovis’ ideas of old world grandeur. Pendragon might have been named after a great legend, but it didn’t belong to the old world, it belonged to the west. It could be glorious without being a copy of those grand old structures. Lelouch seemed to understand that more than Clovis.

She leaned her arms up on the railing, the piece of wood set a little bit too high for her to rest her chin on it. Nunnally sighed and reached back to push her wheelchair closer, pressing her legs up against the railing. Resettled, she rested her arms on it. From her new perch, she could see the tops of the finished buildings. In the distance, she could make out the lot that had been set aside for the Senate house in Clovis’ plans. Lelouch had laughed when she had mentioned it and muttered something about a general city hall, but Nunnally didn’t think he was concentrating on that. He seemed to be focused on growing the city for the people that were already there until more got interested. From what Nunnally could see, it was a smart move; the people of Pendragon would love him for it.

What the people in the rest of the territory would say, she didn’t know. She didn’t even know if Lelouch had thought that far. Her brother might delight in grand schemes, but he wasn’t acting like he had one. He was just trying to hold what little bit of the Arizona territory he had together.

She drummed her fingers on the railing, tipping one arm back. She could see a smattering of freckles starting to dot her arm, probably from her staying out in the sun. She was sure that Ms. Lohmeyer would have a fit and drag out the lemon juice to save her from such a calamity, but Nunnally didn’t mind. Aside from the heat of the day, it was too nice to stay cooped up inside.

Besides, staying inside always made her feel cramped. There was a finite space in the buildings. It didn’t matter how big they were, it always made her aware of her wheelchair. She was always gauging the room she had to pass through gaps in furniture, or what she would have to do to maneuver herself into a chair or onto her bed. Back in Richmond, the streets were the same way, always full of people and crowded.

Pendragon had space, even out on the streets. The sidewalks might just have been boards hammered together just above the dirt, but they were more than enough for her to maneuver through. Maybe it was because there weren’t as many people in Pendragon that she didn’t feel confined. Better yet she never felt that if she turned around she would hear people whispering about what a shame it was for a princess to be so confined and helpless. Out in Pendragon, there would just be tips of their hats and people asking if she needed help with a difficult part of the sidewalk. Everyone out here seemed to take it in stride. Everyone out here had someone who had been hurt on the way out west or had gotten injured themselves in the Civil War. She wasn’t an abnormality here, she was just another person life had dealt a bad hand to.

She wasn’t broken here.                                       

“Princess Nunnally?” She turned around, smiling as she saw Dalque stepping onto the balcony. The woman held up a packet of mail, setting it carefully on Nunnally’s lap. “It just came in and Dorothea hinted that they’re going to try and get the viceroy to sit down for lunch after this meeting.”

“Thank you, Dalque.” Nunnally paged through her mail, smiling when she saw that there was a letter from Euphemia in with the rest of the stack. She would have to reply to that one first; Euphemia was voracious for news of Pendragon.

She looked back over her shoulder, looking over the room. It was spotless as usual. Nunnally smiled and looked back a Dalque. “You can take the rest of the day off, if you want.”

“But Ms. Lohmeyer-”

“Answers to me. Go on. She’s been working you hard while Lelouch was gone. You deserve the day of rest.”

Dalque stared at her for a moment before dropping into a curtsey. Nunnally turned her head, listening as Dalque scurried off. She should be out of the way before Ms. Lohmeyer could come around and start badgering Nunnally about what a princess should be doing, which would be all the better for both of them. In the meantime, Nunnally had letters to read and a brother to corral long enough to eat lunch with her. She sighed, giving the avenue one last look before wheeling herself back into the palace.


	24. Warm

_June 1868 atb  
Pendragon, Britannia_

C.C. worked at the knots in her corset, letting go of the tangled strings as she felt fingers brush against hers. She dropped her hands to her side, smiling at the brief brushes of Suzaku’s fingers against her skin. There was no way that her corset strings were that knotted, and she was not about to complain. If she thought she could get away with it, she would ask him to rub some of the knots that had worked their way into her shoulders.

The railroad connection to Pendragon meant a bustling business. There were always new shipments that were coming in, new things to attract the customers. Her regulars were a sure thing, but they always approved of something a little new. More people from Pendragon were starting to flock to her saloon as those further down Camlann Street started to get a bad reputation. If a prince of the empire frequented the Royal then it had to be better than any of the others in the city. C.C. wasn’t above using Lelouch to keep her business going. She just hadn’t thought that the Royal would get so popular.

An increase in customers meant more supplies, which thrilled Mary Cardemonde. The woman had been beaming the entire time she had helped C.C. and Sayoko unload the latest shipment and bring it around to the back of the saloon. The increase of people in Pendragon meant that she was doing brisk business as well. She had bought out the top half of the street and had expanded to renting lots that were dotted throughout the city. C.C. couldn’t wait for the day when the nobles started coming into Pendragon and realized that they would have to buy land from Mary, a divorced woman in an open relationship with a Number. She was almost tempted to find a way into those negotiations.

The corset dropped away from her, C.C. turning to smile at Suzaku before she kicked her dress and corset away from her. She reached back to undo her petticoat, wiggling out of that before walking to the other side of the room. She could feel Suzaku’s gaze on her as she walked, C.C. smiling to herself. Suzaku was never one to hide that he was admiring her, and C.C. couldn’t help but play up for him. Suzaku was the only one to show open appreciation for her, Lelouch was still too stuck in his Richmond and New London ways.

She picked up her nightgown, flinging it across her arm and not bothering to put it on. C.C. turned around, giving Suzaku a flirtatious grin before making her way over to the bed.

She sat down on the edge of bed, flipping the end of the nightgown over her lap. It was a relief to be out of layers of clothes after working all day in the hot sun. Even with the sun going down, it was going to take a while for the town to be properly cooled down after a day of baking in the heat. It was almost enough to make C.C. want to lounge around naked for a while longer. Then again, Lelouch was sure to come into the bedroom and she didn’t want to deal with his sputtering and trying to cover her up. It wasn’t like any of the three of them cared nor would anyone walk into the room. No one bothered Lelouch after sundown under the mistaken assumption that he would stop working.

C.C. sighed and pulled her nightgown on, wincing when it caught on the pins in her hair. She sighed and reached back to start undoing them, freezing when she heard the door open. She glanced over her shoulder, smirking when she saw Lelouch slipping into the room.

The prince glanced around, his gaze lingering where Suzaku was standing. C.C. turned her head, making an appreciative noise when she saw that Suzaku was pulling his shirt off. She grinned when Suzaku paused, watching as he glanced between the two of them before tossing his shirt on a chest in a corner of the room.

Lelouch made a disgusted noise, but didn’t go to retrieve the shirt. He was probably too used to dealing with the two of them to argue about keeping the room to his standards, but it must have been a long day if he didn’t bother to shoot Suzaku an annoyed look.

C.C. patted the empty space beside her, turning her back to Lelouch as an invitation as soon as he sat down. She felt him settle onto the bed a moment before his fingers carded through her hair. They tangled in the pins and braids for a moment, C.C. letting Lelouch feel out their position before he pulled back and started to work them out in earnest.

She closed her eyes and listened to the tap of pins on the bedside table, enjoying the brief press of Lelouch’s chest against her back when he leaned forward to place them there. One of his hands always stayed on her head, fingers curling slightly as he worked through her hair.

C.C. didn’t know why Lelouch seemed to enjoy playing with her hair, but she didn’t care. He always took the chance to work it out of its twist for the day. If he took longer than needed she didn’t complain, not when he was so gentle.

The bed shifted against as Suzaku climbed onto it, C.C. opening one eye as she felt him brush against her. He hovered at her shoulder for a moment before sliding down onto his stomach. From the sleepy smile he gave her, he wouldn’t be awake for much longer. C.C. shook her head and reached down to rest her hand on his shoulder. She had spent most of her time at the Royal, so she hadn’t heard what Lelouch had gotten up to. Now that he didn’t have to worry about Luciano, rogue town councils or the Indian tribes C.C. didn’t know what Lelouch was doing with his time, aside from riding relentlessly through the city and encouraging his workers to keep going. At least now there was progress to show for his heckling.

She heard Lelouch sigh as he finished with her hair, letting it fall down her back. C.C. shook her head to let it settle into place, feeling it cascade down her back. She felt him brush his fingers through the end of it before he rested his forehead against her shoulder.

C.C. chuckled, glancing down at Suzaku, not surprised to find the man half asleep. “You wore out Suzaku. Did the two of you have fun without me?”

Lelouch just grunted as an answer, one of his hands slipping around to rest on her waist. C.C. lowered her hand to rest over his, squeezing it gently. Her other hand she shifted to rest on Suzaku’s shoulder, stroking down Suzaku’s arm.

She could hear Suzaku’s breathing evening out as he fell asleep, sure that Lelouch was close behind her. C.C. leaned back into Lelouch, waiting for him to shift so she could curl up in the center of the bed.

Out of all the positions in the bed she enjoyed being pinned between the two of them. It was comfortable, especially when the night did cool everything down. She was trapped in her own pocket of warmth and lulled to sleep by two sets of steady breathing. The only flaw in her plan was the way that Suzaku was still sprawled partially across the bed.

She nudged at Suzaku with her toes, hearing him snuffle as he woke up. “Get up here.”

She thought she heard him grumble before Suzaku hauled himself to the head of the bed. He settled himself on her other side, his arm draped across her middle.

C.C. snuggled it between the two of them, rolling her eyes when Lelouch rolled over for his book. “Don’t keep me up forever.”

She didn’t see his expression, she was too busy settled back under the covers, tucking one hand around Lelouch’s thigh. She felt him shift to get more comfortable and then silence as he settled into his book. C.C. felt Lelouch lean closer to the lamp, but she ignored it. With Lelouch’s legs tucked under the covers and Suzaku tucked against her back she had her own little pocket of warmth, just what she needed after a long day of hauling crates.

The pages of Lelouch’s book rustle just before C.C. felt a hand rest on her head. It sat there for a moment before Lelouch started carding his fingers through her hair.

She pushed her head slightly into the touch before resettling herself, letting the calming motion send her to sleep.


	25. Thunder

_July 1868 atb  
Pendragon, Britannia_

The train whistle belted out, startling Euphemia out of the doze she had drifted into. She jolted upright in her seat, eagerly turning and nearly pressing her face against the window. It didn’t matter that she was a royal princess, she was the only one in her car. Her companion and the guards the Cornelia had sent with her were in the next car, they had probably left sometime during her nap to give her privacy. Euphemia knew that Leila hadn’t taken to the rails too well. The ride was as smooth as her father’s best engineers could make it, but Leila seemed to feel every bump on the tracks. Euphemia didn’t think her companion had slept once on their way out. She would have to seriously curtail half of her plans, just to give the young woman the time to rest.

It wouldn’t be too big of a change, Euphemia was sure that she would have an escort. She had sent Nunnally and Lelouch telegraphs before she had boarded the train with an approximate time that she would be coming in. Leila could take the rest of the day to sleep, because Euphemia planned on exploring the area around Pendragon over the month she would be spending with her half-brother and sister. According to Nunnally, the area was too beautiful to pass up.

Euphemia bit her lip as she stared out into the desert. She had the horrible feeling that she had missed some of the beautiful scenery. She sighed and slumped back in her seat. It wasn’t too much of a disappointment, not when she was sure that Nunnally would give her the grand tour.

She resettled herself, staring out the window as she looked for some sign of where she was. She was sure that the train wouldn’t have blown its whistle unless they were approaching a town. She wanted to figure out where they were herself before calling one of her guards in to ask where they had gotten to. Euphemia didn’t think they were too far off, not unless she had fallen asleep for longer than she had intended.

Euphemia leaned against the window, grinning to herself when she felt the train slow down. She could see the tops of houses and the long shed that might be a train station. Beyond that, she could see a mix of buildings, Euphemia shifting so she could kneel on the seat.

If she hadn’t been sure that they were approaching Pendragon, then she was sure now. She had been unsure while she was looking at the first houses, a mix of wood and adobe that she had seen when the train had stopped to refuel. But, mixed in with the other buildings, were the familiar brick manors that she was used to from New London and Richmond. Euphemia couldn’t see much of them, but she was sure that the mansions would look exactly the same. She strained further up onto her knees, looking for the royal palace. She knew that it wasn’t quite complete, the outside was still being worked on, but she didn’t care. Her father would, which meant that he wouldn’t be inspecting the new capital until it was completely finished. Euphemia didn’t know how long it would last, but she hoped that it would be sooner rather than later. It would be cruel to give Lelouch that much power only to take it away, but their father rarely thought about what was good for the rest of his family.

The train blew its whistle again, Euphemia catching a glimpse of the crowd gathered at the station. She dropped back down into her seat before the crowd could see her staring out the window like an excited child. She was still a royal princess, there were certain rules that she had to follow. She could be excited about the new city once the official greeting had been done.

She laced her fingers together, biting her lip to keep herself from bouncing her knee up and down. The train would be stopping within a few minutes. She had traveled too many miles to lose patience at the last minute.

Euphemia looked up as the door to the carriage opened, smiling as Alfred Dalton bowed to her. Her sister’s guard looked up before glancing at the window. “I came to warn you that we were approaching the station, but you’re already awake.”

She nodded and stood up. “Is Leila alright?”

Alfred looked sheepish, breaking out of his formal pose to rub the back of his neck. “Ms. Makal is about as ready to get out off of the train as you are. I think it would be best if you excused her for the rest of the day.”

“I plan to. Can you and David handle the luggage?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Thank you.” Euphemia nodded at him before fumbling for a hold on the door to keep herself from falling over as the train rocked to a stop. Alfred reached over to help her, Euphemia holding onto his arm as the train settled down.

She patted his arm in thanks before walking to the door, carefully positioning herself out of sight. If she leaned forward she could just peak through the window in the door, Euphemia taking a quick breath when she saw the people waiting for her at the stop. Some of them had to be waiting for what was in the other cars, the supplies or the families that had come with the train, but most of them had their gaze fixed on the royal carriage. From what Euphemia could see, it looked like the entire town had come out to greet her.

Euphemia self-consciously smoothed down her dress. It was wrinkled from a day of travel and then her nap in the carriage. She glanced back at the door, tempted to ask Alfred to help her shut the windows and then give her the privacy to change. She didn’t want to stumble out of the carriage travel worn, it wasn’t something done by a princess. It would cause a little delay, but the people would get what they wanted, a princess in all her glory descending from the train.

She clenched the fabric of her dress between her fingers, looking over the crowd until she spotted Nunnally and Lelouch slightly off to one side. She grinned at the sight of them, any plans of changing leaving her head. It had been years since she had seen either of them and she didn’t want to wait any longer.

“Alfred, see that Leila gets settled in nicely.”

“Of course, your highness. Should I send David to accompany you?”

Euphemia eyed the people that surrounded Nunnally and Lelouch. They didn’t have a single uniform, but it was obvious that they were guards from the way they stood. Euphemia shook her head, turning to motion for Alfred to keep it a secret. It had been hard enough to convince Cornelia to let her come out to Pendragon without an entire squad of guards. If her sister ever found out that she had dodged the two sent to her, Euphemia wouldn’t be able to go anywhere on her own for a long while.

Alfred glanced out the window before bowing to her, stepping to the side. He swung open the door for her, Euphemia grateful for the hand he offered on the step down to the platform. Her skirts obscured the step, Euphemia feeling like she was going to topple off and fall right on her face. She bit her lip to keep from laughing. That would be an entrance the people of Pendragon wouldn’t forget.

She carefully maneuvered her skirts to make a graceful step onto the platform, smiling at everyone who was watching. Out of the corner of her eye she could see some of the other passengers pausing as they got off the train, all of them taking a moment to stare at her.

The awed silence was broken as Nunnally wheeled herself forward. “Euphy!”

“Nunnally!” She stooped to throw her arms around Nunnally, squeezing her tightly before looking up.

Lelouch was following his sister at a more sedate pace, two of his guards following him. The rest remained behind, Euphemia watching them as they relaxed.

Maybe her sister had been wrong that going to Pendragon would put her in danger. There wasn’t any lawlessness that she could see. Then again, Euphemia couldn’t imagine Lelouch putting up with such a thing. Her half-brother liked things done in an orderly fashion, even if it took a fight to get it that way.

She let go of Nunnally stepping around her to throw her arms around Lelouch. She felt him tense for a moment before he relaxed, Euphemia smiling at a snicker that she heard from one of his guards. At least he hadn’t changed that much, although Euphemia was sure that he had grown taller, or maybe the distance and time had messed with her memory of him.

Lelouch awkwardly patted her back before stepping away. “It’s good to see you again, Euphy.”

“You too. You and Nunnally look good.”

“So do you. Any problems coming out here?”

Euphemia shook her head, allowing Lelouch to take her arm. “No, but I’ve been looking forward to being able to stretch my legs.”

“Then allow Nunnally and me the honor of giving you a tour.”

She nodded, glancing over her shoulder at where David was helping Leila down from the carriage. Alfred was working with the porters as they unloaded their luggage. It looked like they had things under control, and Euphemia was sure that Leila would just turn down the tour if she was offered. As far as Euphemia was concerned, everything was taken care of, which left her the rest of the afternoon free to spend with her siblings. She patted Lelouch’s arm. “Lead on.”

Lelouch turned, guiding her along the platform and away from the crowd of people. Euphemia could feel their eyes on her still, but she was used to that. Her focus was on Lelouch’s steady pressure on her arm and the delighted chatter of Nunnally on her other side. Euphemia was vaguely aware of the guards falling in around them, but it wasn’t important, not when Lelouch was leading her out from the roof of the station platform and onto the dusty street.

He paused, glancing at her and then away in a rare show of nervousness before he nodded down the street. “Welcome to Pendragon.”

Euphemia looked at the half finished city and smiled at its beauty.

 

THE END                                                                                             


End file.
